


On and On

by deluxemycroft



Series: Ouroboros [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abuse, Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Cultural Differences, Dark Thor (Marvel), Fake/Pretend Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Loki's schemes, M/M, Mind Meld, Mind Reading, Non-Sexual Submission, Overly Familiar Familial Relationships, Possessive Behavior, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rewriting Canon, Thor: The Dark World Compliant, Time Travel, Torture, soul bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-10-23 13:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 91,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17683994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deluxemycroft/pseuds/deluxemycroft
Summary: Thor takes.Loki takes back.Abandoned on Earth, Loki makes the best of a poor situation. Thor won't see him coming.





	1. CH1

**Author's Note:**

> hey folks! lmao! guess what! imagine what you think is going to happen here. the exact opposite is going to happen. hope you're ready!
> 
> i know a lot of sequels start with this, but a LOT of this will not make sense if you don't read the previous fic in this series. same as in the last fic, every loki that thor brought back is a different loki. same as in this fic, this isn't the same loki as the one in 'it ends bad'. yes, its still loki, but its a different loki. if you haven't read that fic and you read this warning and you're now spoiled for 'it ends bad', well, i can't really do anything about that.
> 
> this is very different than the last fic!! here's some general warnings: loki (just in general); thor (also just in general); captain america swears some; (this is the same as 'it ends bad') characters use their cultural differences or experiences to justify abusive behavior. i think that asgardians have cultural differences in regards to affection in platonic relationships, and i think loki kind of mirrors that. i can't imagine being friends with someone for like 2000 years and not being cool with like. sleeping in the same bed as them or whatever. so just keep that in mind lol
> 
> anyway good luck! please review and leave kudos!

He opened his eyes and he was young again. 

There was the Void beneath him. Somewhere down there, in the great deep dark of it all, Thanos was waiting for him. 

Above him, Thor kept his hand outstretched. Something with the magic of his glamour was malfunctioning, and he kept flickering between the young man that had ruined Loki’s life and the King that had taken it. 

But Thanos was beneath him, along with the great long fall. No matter how Loki wanted to let go, no matter how Thor had taken everything from him, no matter the hatred that burned in his heart, Thanos was beneath him.

So he lifted himself and put his hand into Thor’s, and his brother raised him to safety. He ignored Odin, ignored his mother, and let Thor drag him to the palace.

“What have you done?” he kept repeating, his voice hoarse. “What have you _done_?”

“I’m sorry,” Thor finally gasped, and he tried to take Loki into his arms, but Loki shoved him away, holding up his hands. He could bear to even look at him. He turned away from Thor, rucking his sleeves up his arms. _Whose skin was this?_

This body was so weak, it's reserves so low. How had he lived like this? He did not recognize his own flesh; where were his scars, his hard-earned marks of battle and bravery? He did not know this body any more. It was not his. His soul felt skinned; he felt raw and flayed alive.

“What have you done?” he shrieked, and threw himself back from Thor’s outstretched hand, running into the wall behind him. He crumpled to the ground and screamed until his lungs felt like they were going to burn up inside his chest and then he screamed some more. “You ruined it! You ruined everything. After everything I lived through for you, you ruined it.”

“Loki, I—” Thor started, but Loki interrupted him.

“We were months away from defeating Thanos. _Months._ A year at most. And I was”—his voice broke and Thor winced, blindly taking the closest seat—“ _happy_. I was fulfilled. As were you. And you _took that from me_.”

“I thought—”

Loki whipped his brother with a flick of seidr and Thor flinched away. “You thought what? That somehow I managed to get a letter or a raven or a message to a King I remembered killing? That I could somehow explain that you broke time and dimensions to try to bring me back, and that we were attempting to kill a Titan he had long thought dead? Are you mad? No, you are beyond mad. You _killed_ me.”

He touched the spot on his head where Mjolnir had breached him, and it felt wrong that there was no visible scar, nothing to mark the spot where Thor, his King, had betrayed him beyond any greatest measure. 

Loki looked up from his shaking hands and took a deep breath, and then another. Thor finally met his gaze, and Loki sneered at his brother’s tears. “You are going to fix this.”

Thor nodded and then went to his knees, crawling slowly to sit before Loki. “I’m sorry, brother,” Thor gasped, and he leaned forward to put his head in Loki’s lap, thunderous sobs shaking his shoulders. 

Loki wanted to kill him. He could feel the seidr at his fingertips, the curses on his tongue, the press of a dagger in his palm. It would be easy. He could be free, free from those so many years of servitude, with the same future stretching out before him now. He could end this, with Thor bleeding into his lap, and Loki making a great escape across the galaxy. Surely that would be better than whatever waited for him. 

But because he was weak, and cowardly, and always had been, Loki pet his brother’s hair, and waited for him to calm.

* * *

They took dinner in their quarters, Loki barring the door with his seidr. It was still his instinct to kneel at Thor’s side and let his brother feed him, but he took the seat across the table and stared his brother down. Thor filled both their plates and then looked down at his hands. 

“Why am I here?”

“The spell I used is weakening,” Thor told him, his voice quiet and ashamed. “I fear this is our last attempt.”

Loki briefly closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t care about that now. Tell me why I am in _this_ body, why you pulled me off the Bifrost.”

“Same reason. The spells used to bring me back in time and to bring you back to me weren’t meant to last this long. I…I used your seidr, to change things.”

Loki went cold. 

“You _what_?”

Thor looked up at him through his lashes, his hands twisting in his lap. Loki hated him. _Hated_ him. He would be weak no longer. He would—he would do whatever it took. Thor would feel what Loki felt now.

“Seidr is the same as any other matter. It doesn’t disappear, it only changes form. So after you died, I found yours, and I took it.”

Loki gagged and covered his mouth with his hand. “You took it?” he whispered, staring unseeingly at the steaming roast on the table in front of him.

Of all the horrible things Thor had done to him…thieving his seidr from his corpse surely amounted amongst the worst. It was beyond abhorrent. It was worse than necromancy. It was not to be done, not by anyone. And for his own brother to steal his seidr from his corpse after Thanos had squeezed the life from him…Loki swallowed down his vomit and took a few deep breaths. Surely he would have done anything to get Thor back if Thor had died in his place, but he could not imagine doing such a thing. It was too bold an act, even for Loki, who thought himself to have long ago shed any pesky morals or scruples. To take seidr from a dead person…unconscionable. Disgusting.

Thor nodded slightly. “I used it to change things about the timelines. I gave you the Scepter, I fixed the Bifrost, I brought Laufey back to life. Many other things.”

“How many times?” Loki finally asked. “How many of me? How much seidr did you steal?”

“I took a bit from every death of yours, but the most was from when Thanos killed you. If I took too much from the time before, I noticed you would grow tired too easily or you would be less powerful. So I experimented, found how much I could take without harming you. Loki…there were thousands. I have been doing this for centuries.”

“I...Thor...I never deserved this.” Surely he would vomit. “I would rather have stayed dead.”

Thor shook his head again and reached across the table for Loki, who hissed at him and shied away from his touch. “I went mad in my grief, brother. Beyond mad. I lost everything. Everyone. They were all gone. I was the King of a Realm that no longer existed, and you were _gone_ , Loki. You were gone, and I knew that you could fix it. The spells I used required a sacrifice, and my sacrifice is that I cannot leave the spell without my mission being complete.”

“Thanos?”

Thor’s hands flexed into fists and the sky behind him darkened. Loki sucked air through his teeth and quickly, Thor’s eyes softened and the sky lightened. “Killing Thanos and you, my beloved. Our souls have long been tied together, and I saw in spells, our lives in other timelines.” Loki sat back in his seat, stunned. Since when had his brother known such spells, been so powerful? This ragged King in front of him was still unrecognizable. What else had Thor done that he would not yet admit to? Who truly was this King before him? “We ended up together, no matter the cost. Thanos took you from me.”

He took a deep breath and looked across the table to Loki. “I took you back.”

They were both quiet for a few long minutes, and Thor ate a few bites from his plate, Loki watching carefully. Over the years at his brother’s side, in their past timelines, he had grown to half-trust his brother, but knowing that Thor had raised Mjolnir against him, and everything else….it changed things. How could he go to his knees in front of this man? No matter how much his seidr needed it, no matter how much his entire being was shaped to live at Thor’s feet.

“How do you expect us to come back from this? From your mistake?” There were so many things that hadn’t happened yet. Thor wasn’t even part of the Avengers yet. So much had changed. He had spent a year researching ways to defeat Thanos and trying to stay one step ahead of the Mad Titan and it was all for nothing.

Oh, Norns.

_Stephen._

Loki, against his will, let out a sob, and he dug the palms of his hands into his eyes. All he had wanted was fifty years, and Thor had taken that from him. Before he could say anything, Thor offered, his voice weak, “Perhaps you could just give them the memories? Of Thanos, of our time together?”

Loki kept his hands on his eyes, rubbing at them with his fingers. He let out a rasping chuckle. “And what? I would kill all of them.” He dropped his hands to his lap and dug his fingers into his thighs, baring his teeth. “Midgardians are weak, no matter how much you like them. You want me to give them _years_ of memories? Memories of other timelines? It would take me weeks, if not months, to cultivate individual memories for each person. And even if I managed to get them to believe us, and didn’t kill any of them, memories don’t create feelings. You took _everything_ from me.”

“Loki…” 

Pushing to his feet, Loki shook his head and left the room. He slammed his bedroom door and threw himself onto his bed.

He had resigned himself to years at Thor’s feet. The rest of his life. And Thor had promised him, and instead of keeping that promise, Thor had killed him. Fifty years was nothing to them. It was a blink in the midst of their ancient existence. Thor had _promised_. He had been so weak to believe him. More fool him.

He gasped into his pillow and let out a cry. Even if he could somehow make Stephen remember, that didn’t create emotions. That didn’t create long fingers clasping his, that didn’t create warm lips pressing to his own, strong teeth biting down on his neck and his chest and his stomach. That didn’t create the bright love in his life. For all his knowledge and all his power, even in this weak body, Loki could not create that.

The door creaked and the bed dipped beside him.

“I hate you,” Loki rasped, and rough fingers pet through his hair. 

“I know,” Thor whispered behind him. “I am so sorry.”

“I don’t care,” Loki replied, but he turned over and looked up at his brother. “How are you going to make this up to me?”

“I do not know as of yet, but I promise, I will find a way. You will be made whole.”

Loki curled up to his brother as Thor laid down next to him. “I miss him already,” Loki whispered into Thor’s neck, and he let himself cry.

Warm but not safe in his brother’s arms, Loki let himself mourn. For the life he had been forced to leave behind, for the love and the friends he had left. For what Thor had again taken from him. Strong arms anchored him to the present, and rough fingers pet his hair and his trembling skin.

As he quieted, his mind began to race. He would no longer sit idly by as Thor dictated him and his life. He had given Thor a chance, dozens, if not hundreds, and Thor had squandered all of them. It would take years, Loki knew, but he would have his revenge. 

He smiled tightly into Thor’s neck, a plan already spinning out before him. He was not a pawn to be used, not a broken thing to be broken further. He would grieve for now, he would give Thor what he wanted, he would live on his knees for as long as it took. But Thor would pay, for taking Stephen from him, for the centuries of Mjolnir on his chest, for the countless times he lifted his chin and attempted to rise above his path in life and was summarily crushed for it.

Whatever had changed in him in the last life Thor had taken from him with a great strike of Mjolnir, it had changed again. He could feel it. There was still the weakness in his heart, the pitiful and pathetic need that had been cultivated through a lifetime to be on his knees, but it was not as strong. It was not the fire that burned in his heart. No, Loki decided. Give Thor what he wished for, and then rip it all out from under him.

* * *

It took nearly a week for Loki’s thoughts to calm enough for him to think of what they would do next. He remembered grief from the times before, but this was worse. This was knowing that nothing he could have done had changed the ultimate outcome. Thor would have killed him regardless. Returning to Midgard was fruitless. He did not even know if Stark had taken up the mantle of the Man of Iron yet, or if Steve had been raised from the ice, or even if Stephen had gone to Kamar-Taj. It was pointless to waste energy doing the same research he had done with Stephen, and he had managed to keep both his knowledge and his various seidr notebooks that made doing more research essentially obsolete. 

He was useless.

Thor had made him useless.

They knew enough of the timeline to know that Loki would have been presumed dead by this point, which would have eventually prompted Thor’s return to Midgard. He assumed that in his first timeline, the proper one, he was already in Thanos’s grasp, and would soon be descending upon Midgard, would would bring Thor into the sights of the Avengers for the first time. 

Loki was at a loss for how to accomplish that now. He tried to piece together the various timelines, of how many Stones Thanos had now, but it was exhausting work, and he paged through his notebooks and his floating graphs and could barely come to make sense of it all. His mind was tired, as was the rest of him.

He supposed it would harm no one if he took a few days to himself. Thor was busy trying to right his ship with Odin, proving that he was truly worthy of the Kingship and of Mjolnir, and Loki stayed to himself, not even seeking out his mother. 

He went before the mirror in his bathroom. It was a gaudy thing, floor to ceiling, and many times as wide as him, and outlined in gold filigree, with intricate carvings and designs. He stripped and looked upon his form with disgust. 

Thor had even taken his own skin from him. 

Nothing was as it should be. He was weak now, and his white skin bore no proof of the past years of his life. He had suffered for those scars, for those physical embodiments of bravery, and Thor had taken it all away with one great bash of Mjolnir to his skull. 

He winced at the remembrance and rubbed the spot on his head, looking at his dark hair in the mirror. There was nothing to prove that he had suffered as he remembered. Even his last body had had most of his scars, and they had all been truly earned. But the scars of this body were from childhood play, from falling out of trees or Thor hurting him in practice. 

Slowly, cautiously, he pressed his fingers to his arm. He had lost most of his kept letters, just general missives from his mother or a few kind words from Thor. Nothing from his King or any of the notes Stephen had left him. He curled his hands into fists and held in his scream, shaking with the pain and ache and stress of it all.

Everything had been taken from him. The pain of this was worse than any torture inflicted upon him, worse than any spell against his flesh, worse than burns or bruises or blood or ash. And now, even his mind betrayed him. He could feel one of his melancholies creeping over him, slowing his mind, but he would not be weak. He would stay stronger than he had been.

Forcing himself to calm, he touched his neck. He did not bear Thor’s collar anymore, nor the angry mark of lightning upon his nape. 

Perhaps it could be for the best, even if it disgusted and dismayed him. He could create his own new future in this weak body. 

He turned away from himself and drew a curtain over the mirror, refusing to face what Thor had taken from him. He blew out the candles and took a hot bath in the dark, floating on his back and staring up at the ceiling. 

Perhaps not all was lost, he thought. Perhaps he could make something of this new dark world. It would take time, it would take pain. But he would have to live through it.

* * *

Thor came back to him and relit the candles, stripping and throwing his clothes all over the bathroom, waiting for Loki to acknowledge him before he slid into the bath as well. 

Thor remained unchanged from the King who had killed him, Loki noticed with distaste. As always, he was the one to suffer.

He obliged his brother and floated closer, letting Thor bump their arms together and run his hand over Loki’s shoulders before he moved away. 

“I will be coronated next month,” Thor told him. “Odin fears he will pass soon.”

Loki hummed. 

“I plan to name you my second and my advisor.”

Now that caught his attention. He sat up, water sliding out of his shortened hair. Thor had even taken his hair from him. He could lengthen his hair with spells, but it still was not _fair_ ; he had spent time caring for himself, time learning _how_ to care for himself again after suffering so greatly. He pushed those thoughts away. No time for that now.

“I am still only second best,” he finally said, but he moved closer to his brother, closer to the future King. “I am to be given nothing more than advisor?”

“You will be second in line for succession,” Thor replied, and his tone was amused. The room was only half lit, and Loki watched as his brother smiled, and his teeth glinted in the candlelight. “I could take you as my spouse, if that it what you are asking.”

The Loki he had been before would have said yes. The Loki that still believed he would truly have a future with Stephen on Midgard would have knelt and promised only to do what made his King happy. He would have asked only for an engagement and a courting that lasted as long as the rest of Stephen’s life, and then yes, he would have married his brother. 

Thor had killed that Loki, and this vengeful husk of a person was all that was left. 

He merely snorted and waved his hand. “You cannot ply me with such promises, my King. I refuse to be swayed or distracted with such tricks. You promised that you would fix your mistake.”

“And I intend to,” Thor rumbled, his voice as loud and as promising as the storms he could bring down upon them. “But I can think of nothing to do to help us other than this.”

Fairly certain he was already aware of what Thor was considering, Loki purred, “Oh pray tell, brother mine, what is your _thought process_ , your reasoning, behind taking up your promised crown?”

Thor opened up his arm and Loki floated into the space left for him, butting his shoulder up against Thor’s side. “Odin’s rule has been primarily only for appearances for that past hundred or so years. He has delegated most of his rule, even the decisions that are usually only left to a King.

“Even including this, as much as it is common knowledge around the palace, he is still the Allfather. He still holds rule over Asgard and the Nine Realms with an iron fist. There is nothing to hint at that I could not do the same, or at least something similar. Neither of our actions would ever be questioned. We would be able to come and go as we pleased, as long as we met the base requirements for a King and his advisor. Surely we would have to meet delegates and go to functions and balls, but they are nothing we weren’t doing already.”

Loki took a deep breath and moved around the bath so that he could sit up and see his brother fully in front of him. “You just want Odin and Frigga out of the way,” he mused with amusement. “As King there is none to question you.”

Thor took Loki’s hand in his own, the glamour falling away so that he could look at Loki with his mismatched eyes. “You mistake my intentions here, brother. I will be the public servant, the face of the power of Asgard. You will be the true power behind the throne, as you have always wanted.”

Loki tipped his head back against the rim of the tub. Truly, it was what he had wanted for as long as he could remember, and what he had once planned for his future. How convenient, giving him what he wanted so he would stay quiet. 

Rough fingers trailed down his throat, and Thor made a sad sound from next to him. “I see even now my mistake,” he murmured, and his thumb rubbed across where the lightning had scarred Loki’s neck. 

“I will never let you forget what you have done to me,” Loki told him, and he let Thor pull him out of the bath and into Thor’s room, where Thor could fully look him over.

Even his skin was wrong here, but he was glad for it for the moment, to show Thor exactly what his rashness and rage had taken from him. 

“I barely recognize myself,” Loki told Thor, who continued to gently dry Loki with the large towel in his hand. “I was happy, brother,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “For the first time in decades. I gave you everything you wanted. And it still wasn’t enough, you still didn’t trust me. You threatened my life every day for five years, and you still believed I would betray you.”

“I know better now,” Thor replied, his voice solemn and quiet. “I will not make the same mistake again.”

Loki turned and put his hand out to catch Thor’s shoulder, turning his brother so that they were facing each other. “Nor will I,” he said, and Thor’s hand tightened around his neck. “You will never mark or collar me again. I am yours, but I will not bear it. I do not carry that burden now.”

Thor looked gutted, but he palmed Loki’s neck and nodded. “As you wish, my beloved.”

Loki went to his own rooms to dress himself in night clothes, curling up on his lounge and paging through his seidr notebooks. A servant came in after awhile and left him a tray with a few drinks on it and a heavy plate of food, and turned down his bed. She asked if he needed anything and he waved her off.

Thor came in as the sun set and brought Loki the plate of the food, switching it out with his notebook. Thor pulled up an armchair and ignored Loki’s scowl, motioning for him to eat.

He obliged, and they were quiet together, Thor making sure he ate at least half of the food and then finishing the plate for him. They both cradled their mugs of mulled wine, and Thor kicked his legs up onto Loki’s lounge.

“You’ll have to find me the traditional ceremony for naming me to your court as your advisor,” Loki told him, and Thor nodded. He took a deep breath and lied. “I look forward to your rule, my King.”

Thor smiled gently at him. “As do I.”


	2. CH2

“Do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?”

“I swear.” Thor’s deep voice echoed throughout the throne room.

“Do you swear to preserve the peace?”

“I swear.”

“Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and to pledge yourself only to the good of the Realm?”

Thor smiled. “I swear.”

“Then on this day, I, Odin Allfather, proclaim you, Thor Odinson to be King of Asgard!”

Gungnir glowed, and a crown, made of gold and shaped like vines and leaves, appeared above Thor’s head and slowly settled down on his hair. A flash of power stunned the room and then everyone erupted in cheers, encouraged by Thor’s own seidr as he raised Mjolnir. Thor clasped his father’s shoulder and slowly made his way to the top of the throne steps, Loki behind him.

Thor’s coronation was a more muted and smaller affair than their first attempt, but it was successful. Loki was the first to go to his knees before his King, bowing his head and taking his place at Thor’s feet. Their people rejoiced behind them, warriors pounding out a celebratory chant with their spears on the ground, Frigga and Odin taking their places at the side of the long, sweeping steps up to his throne.

Civilians cheered behind them, and Thor took his seat for the first time as King, as Allfather.

He called for a royal officiant, and one was quickly brought forward.

Thor handed them a small scroll, watching as the officiant unrolled it and nodded. He called for their people’s attention, for their parents’ attention, for everyone in the room to quiet and look upon him.

The glamour slipped off his skin and Thor pushed to his feet. “I am your King,” he told them, and the endless crowd before them roared. Loki tapped his fingers on the floor and a small image of Odin and Frigga’s shocked and confused faces flashed briefly before him. “A King needs advisors. It is customary to wait up to six months for a new King to choose the highest members of his royal court, but I hope it surprises no one that I already have my most trusted advisor.” He held out his hand and Loki gracefully went to his feet, delicately putting his hand in Thor’s.

The officiant brought forward an ancient horn, filled with _minni_ , a ceremonial drink brewed by the oath-receiver. Thor had stayed up late the past few nights brewing it, to show his gratitude and respect for Loki’s servitude. 

Frigga held her hand to her mouth and Odin tiredly shook his head as Loki followed a step behind Thor as they descended the steps of the throne. The massive room went silent, people pushing closer to watch as Loki went to his knees, artfully arranging his robes around himself for a moment before tipping his head up to look at his brother. 

The officiant handed Thor the horn, and he took a sip himself before turning to Loki.

“I stand before my King to acknowledge and enforce the ritual of the King’s request. Do you, Loki Odinson, consent?” the officiant’s voice was low and melodious, and Loki smiled slightly at his brother. It was so good to watch his plans begin to unfold.

“Loki wishes to hear the terms of the ritual and what will be required of him,” he replied, and watched in amusement as Thor’s fingers flexed around the horn. They had not had time to talk about this part of the ritual, and clearly Thor had assumed that Loki would agree to whatever was being asked of him, but Loki wanted everyone to know exactly what he would be giving to his King, and for everyone to know what Loki would eventually rip out from under him. It felt especially good to be able to glance behind Thor and see the shocked faces of Odin and Frigga, and below them, the Warriors Three and Sif. 

“The King’s ritual is threefold, and you will take one drink of minna for each oath. The first ritual is for the position of the high advisor of the royal court, and it requires a drink and a two-fold spell to bind your tongue and open your ears. Do you consent to this ritual, Loki Odinson?”

“Loki consents.”

Thor’s hand twisted in his hair and pulled his head even further back, bringing the ceremonial horn to Loki’s lips. The minna was pale colored and cold, and it tasted similar to milk mixed with blood. The officiant murmured a few words and a flash of light ran over Loki’s form, briefly filling his mouth with bile and hurting the very innermost parts of his ears. He sighed as Thor removed the horn from his lips, and leaned into the strong palm that briefly cradled his jaw.

“The second King’s ritual is for the King’s Emissary. It requires a drink and a four-fold spell to stay your heart, to quicken your feet, to firm your loyalty, and to be courageous in the face of any danger to your King and Realm. Do you consent, Loki Odinson?”

Loki looked up at Thor through his lashes and he smiled. “Loki consents.”

The sip of minna was still cold, and the blood-milk taste of it was mixed with something he could not place, something that tasted similar to semen. This time, the officiant leaned forward and pressed one hand to Loki’s chest and the other to his forehead. He heard Thor’s grumble but it was overshadowed by various gasps as seidr flooded through his body, and it was all heat and it felt as if his body was being filled up with something so cold it felt hot.

Then the officiant took a deep breath and moved away. Loki slumped forward as if his strings had been cut, and Thor’s strong hand kept him upright. 

“The final ritual is for the position of Regent King.”

Everyone close to them gasped, and Loki smiled.

It had been his idea, something to very firmly cement his place. He would not have his position be doubted, he would no longer be subjugated by his peers. There were so many options that unfolded for his future, and he needed to have his position in Asgard secured. 

The officiant’s voice shook as they continued, “This ritual requires pureness of heart, pureness of spirit, and pureness of belief and thought. It requires a drink of minna and a spell of _hylli_ , or loyalty. Does Loki Odinson consent?”

From far above him, Thor smiled.

Loki held up his hand and Thor took it, briefly squeezing it before letting it go.

Behind Thor, someone tried to say something, and they were quieted.

“Loki consents.”

He took the last sip from the horn, and the minna was warm, and it tasted of thunder.

The officiant rested a hand on the back of Thor’s neck, and a hand on the back of Loki’s neck, and he spoke a long, lilting sentence of seidr. A great boom echoed throughout the chambers, and both of Thor’s hands were holding Loki’s jaw, and he was being dragged to his feet, strong arms wrapping around his shoulders.

In life, in death, in peace and in war, in silence and speech, in need and in plenty, he belonged to Thor. How perfect.

“Beloved,” Thor rasped into his ear, as Loki attempted to catch his breath. He felt carved open, his tongue heavy in his mouth, his heart beating a frantic pace. “Perhaps you have given me something better than the collar,” he whispered into Loki’s ear, his breath hot and humid. Loki smiled to himself and then quickly school his face into gratitude.

Loki smirked and stepped away from his brother, holding his hand out towards the soldiers closest to him. One of them stepped forward and gave him his horned helm, which he took and settled on his head. 

The officiant took away the ceremonial horn and was helped back into an antechamber, as they were surely to be exhausted, and Thor took Loki’s hand and held it up. “To my brother!” he cried, and the room erupted.

The feast that night was Thor and Loki both fending off confused and worried inquiries from Odin and Frigga and Thor’s friends, and Loki wondered when the effects of the ritual spells would take hold. He had done plenty of research on them—he could not raise fist or seidr against Thor, unless it was to save his life; he could not spill secrets, lest he have to cut his own tongue out; he could not take a lover that was not approved by his King; his loyalty was not his own to give, as he was property of the crown. The hylli, by the nature of it, was bound to Asgard, to the throne, and the more time spent in the Realm Eternal, the stronger the bond would be. 

Well, as he thought about it, perhaps nothing had truly changed. Perhaps all that was different was that other people knew of it. Perhaps the greatest change was that he had more leverage now.

Thor had decided he would completely rid himself of the glamour, and he was relaxed and reclining casually in the highest chair at the royal table, looking down upon their constituents and Odin and Frigga and the Warrior Three and Sif. He kept Loki’s cup full of sweet wine and bade his brother to drink it, to which Loki complied with pleasure. Pale faces from the citizens constantly turned up at them, and Loki’s keen ears caught his name being mentioned in nearly every sentence. He smugly finished his wine. Finally, they saw him. They saw what he was willing to do, how far Thor had pushed him all these years. 

“I believe I will retire to my rooms,” Loki told his brother, leaning close. He misjudged the distance and ended up nearly crashing into Thor’s lap, causing his brother to give out a loud peal of laughter and wrap his arms around Loki’s shoulders.

“The servants have spent all day moving our belongings to our new quarters,” Thor told him, and Loki grit his teeth and then shook his head, forcibly schooling his face back into pleasantry.

“I hope I will have my own bed,” he replied airily, and waved a servant over. The servant helped him stand and Loki steadied himself with a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Take me to the royal wing,” he demanded of the servant, and he let himself be led away.

The further he stepped away from Thor, the more he noticed that something in his seidr twinged, pulling him back to his brother. It was strange, but it was merely more information that he could use to manipulate Thor. He ignored it for the time it took for the servant to lead him to their new quarters, and then he dismissed the boy, stripping down and throwing his clothes into the closest corner, not even looking to see if there were two beds as he slid into the first one he could find. The sheets were already warm, and the mattress was soft, and he relaxed into it, sighing contentedly. 

Above all, it had been a good day, as strange as that thought felt.

He delved deep into his seidr, hating how small his reserves felt now, but he was working on building it up and it was coming closer every day to the core he had constructed during his last time on Midgard. It was still grey and silver and Thor surrounded him, a heavy blanket of storm over his soul. But a small glimmer of orange still shone from the bottom, and it was dull now, with his connection to Stephen having been severed once Thor had killed him.

He pushed that away and looked for the spot of his seidr that was tugging him away, pulling him back to Thor. It was a bright spot of green and gold, and if he concentrated enough, he could see a literal path leading him back to his brother. He reached out for it and then pet it with his own seidr, and felt an answering touch from Thor’s end.

Soon, his brother joined him in bed, all hot skin and rough hands and thunder cracking outside. “You called for me,” Thor rasped, his voice thick with mead.

“That I did, my King,” Loki purred, and he pushed Thor onto his back, splaying across his brother’s chest. “And you came to me.”

“As I will always,” Thor promised, and Loki did his best to believe him.

* * *

The first year of Thor’s rule passed in peace. Loki spent his time traveling between realms and sitting in on council meetings and plotting and scheming and researching and studying. As long as Loki stayed on his knees when Thor demanded it, he generally left Loki alone.

Heimdall kept his gaze fixed on Midgard, sending twice-monthly reports of what the Avengers were doing. It took the full year for SHIELD to put together the Avengers, and he and Thor had had a few meetings on how long they should wait before they went to Midgard. They would have to convince the Avengers of the threat of Thanos, and also have to convince them that Midgard was going to be specifically targeted, given that Loki had not attempted to rule the Realm in this timeline. It was difficult keeping the various timelines straight in his head, but Loki had the help of various graphs he had written up. 

Thanos presumably knew by now that there were Infinity Stones on Midgard, and would have found someone else to seek them out. Thor was willing to go back to Midgard to fight the Chitauri, and he wanted Loki to stay behind, something he was unwilling to do. 

Loki wanted to wait. He kept staying Thor’s hand, wanting to see how long it took for Stephen to join the ranks, but he worried it would take too many years and that Thanos would be too powerful.

They argued about if Thor needed Stormbreaker, if they even needed the Avengers help, if they should enlist the help of the Guardians of the Galaxy, if they even had any reason to believe Thanos would go to Midgard in this timeline at all. After all, he hadn’t found Loki in the Void, and had no reason to follow him to get the Infinity Stones that Loki had promised him. Would their great fight take place in the stars then, somewhere in space? Would it be a battle on some distant Realm? Asgard, even? But there were still Infinity Stones on Midgard, and Thanos was after them like a bilgesnipe on a scent. 

He could cast Dugreptir without difficulty now, and having spent the past year rebuilding and strengthening his seidr core, he could even be more powerful than he had been before Thor had killed him. He was still disgusted by this body, but it was better. He was stronger, and stood taller, even if he still did not carry the physical reminders of his battles and wars won. He had so many plans for revenge and retribution, and he grew more and more confident and sure of himself and his plans. He did not allow himself to be swayed from his course; he was determined and sure.

Thor had taken well to his Kingship. He had continued in Odin’s fashion, delegating most of his duties, and giving most of the tedious paperwork to Loki, who smiled and obliged without complaint. His various positions, but most specifically of Regent, allowed him the same authority as Thor, and he found himself involved in the long, boring process of confirming the balance of the treasury, or the grain and growth reports, and the various peace treaties that were updated every year or every five years or every decade with various other realms. He met with other delegates and emissaries, and made a good name for himself as someone with Asgard’s and Thor’s best interests at heart, but as someone who refused to back down or second guess himself. What Loki wanted, Thor wanted, and vice versa. 

Everyone who seemed to have doubts of Loki’s position in Thor’s court had their worries settled as Loki refused to listen to dissent or offensive words against his person or his position. Loki answered no one one other than Thor, and Thor gladly allowed him free reign.

But he missed his life on Midgard, as shameful as that was to admit. He desperately missed Stephen, and would often spent his nights with Heimdall, the Gatekeeper finding Stephen in the vast Realms beneath them and detailing his activities to Loki. Thor sometimes joined them, but Loki refused to allow his brother into this part of his life, as Thor had been the one to take it from him.

But not counting all of that, Loki was fulfilled. He was finally, finally, Thor’s equal. He was sought out for advice as often as Thor. If he spent time amongst the citizens of their realm, he was plied with gifts and had bards sing to him of his great deeds and he was loved by them as much as they loved Thor. He was slowly, if surely, on his way to building everything up to rip it all out from underneath everyone. Thor believed him, believed his loyalty to both himself and to Asgard.

Thor was on a hunt with the Warriors Three and Sif, and was due to return that night. Loki waited for his brother in their quarters, eating a small meal of greasy meat and warm sweet figs and heavy wine. He paged through one of his journals, reading his betrayed account from all of those lifetimes ago when he had found out his true heritage for the first time, how it had explained so much, how his entire life had been lies. More fuel for the fire that burned in his heart.

A loud crash interrupted his reading, and he looked up to watch the massive doors to their chambers slam open, the sentry that was usually posted outside looking both stunned and apologetic. Thor was carrying a massive fur, and he greeted Loki with a wide smile. 

Loki gracefully pushed to his feet and slinked closer, holding his arms out so Thor could drape the fur over his shoulders. Thor obliged, cupping Loki’s neck with his hand, pulling out a few gems and some jewelry from his pockets. Thor carefully adorned his brother with them and dropped the jewels on the closest table for Loki to look at later. 

“If this is a bribe…” Loki began, running his fingers down the thick fur.

Thor beamed at him. “It’s a good one?” he questioned, and Loki smirked at him. “We were hunting a mule deer when Fandral came upon bear tracks. We followed it back to its den, where I tore its head off with my hands.” Loki sidled closer and leaned into the strong hands at his neck. “It has taken residence up in an old dragon’s nest, where I took the finest rewards for my beloved.”

“The meat?” Loki questioned, licking his lips. He had always been partial to bear. 

“The kitchens are preparing a feast for tonight,” Thor replied, moving away. “I will earn your forgiveness one way or another, brother.”

Loki walked up to his great mirror and admired himself in it, laying the fur more artfully over his neck and shoulders. “You’ll find your way there eventually if you keep bringing me such finery as this.” It was exactly what Thor wished to hear.

He met Thor’s gaze in the mirror and twisted his lips in a smile. Thor had personally supplied most of Loki’s more expensive clothes and jewels over the years, taken from people and criminals he had fought and bested. It was a long standing tradition in Asgard to bring back the spoils of war and battle for those left at home, although it was usually something done for a spouse. Loki had never minded that, only telling Thor over the years that if he was going to leave, he surely should bring valuables back for him. It would be the worst part of his life to have to change.

He examined the jewels and hefted them in his hands. The largest of them was a ruby nearly the size of his palm, and there were a few small diamonds and emeralds. He held the single sapphire up to the light and then called for the sentry. 

“Bring me a jewelry maker,” he requested, and tossed the ruby in the air a few times, imbuing it with a bit of seidr. It would look good as a large ring on his fingers, or inlaid in the hilt of a knife. 

Thor went to cleanse himself and the palace’s highest ranking and most talented jewelry maker was soon brought before Loki. She was tall and thin, with strong fingers that deftly ran over the jewels that Loki waved her towards as he went back to relax in his lounge. 

Her name was Boda, and she had created most of Loki’s most prized possessions, ranging from heavy necklaces to thin, diamond embedded rings. He had a few knives that had seidr-imbued jewels in the handles, and he always believed they brought him luck. 

“Our King has an excellent eye for precious stones,” she told him, after looking at all of the gems under a handheld piece of glass. “I can use these for nearly any purpose, your Highness.”

Loki held out his hand and she helped him to his feet. “My favorite is the ruby,” he said, and held it up to the light. “I was thinking a few rings, and perhaps in a knife or two. Depending on if it is large enough and your skill is great enough, of course.”

Before his crowning to a far higher position than a prince, she would have laughed at him and told him that he had never requested anything of her that had even come close to besting her skill. However, now, she only bowed her head and dropped her gaze. “I will do my best to please you, your Highness,” she replied, and motioned to the other gems. “Have you any requests of me for the other jewels?”

Loki sniffed at her and moved around the room, picking up Thor’s crown and tossing it at her. “The leaves look plain to me,” he told her, and waved at the diamonds. “My brother would look far better if the leaves on his crown had diamonds in them.” She nodded and carefully wrapped Thor’s crown in a cloth and then tucked it inside her cloak. “Also this fur needs a brooch. Perhaps emeralds?” He slid the fur from his shoulders and her assistant walked in to take it from him.

At the same time, Thor came out of the bathroom, clothed in only a towel around his waist. Boda’s eyes widened and both her and her assistant immediately averted their gaze, causing Loki to scowl and throw clothes at his brother. Thor only laughed at them and went back into the bathroom to dress himself, returning after only a few moments to greet the jewelry maker and her assistant. 

“My King,” they both greeted, voices low, and bowed respectfully. 

“Your Emissary has requested I alter your crown,” Boda started, and Thor laughed at her, ignoring her concerns. 

“My brother has a far better eye for fashion and jewels than I do,” Thor told her. “I have no concern for any of those things. He may do whatever he wishes to any manner of royal jewelry.”

“Is that so?” Loki murmured, and flicked his fingers at his jewelry box. It held all of the ceremonial gems and jewels and adornments for ceremonies, for both the King and the Queen, or for their situation, the King and his Emissary and Regent. Regent was a higher ranking position technically, but more of the people in the palace had heard of an emissary, and that’s what Loki was usually referred to. He did not particularly care either way.

The drawers of the box all opened and over half of the contents floated over to them, laying themselves out on the largest table in the room. Even Thor looked interested as the four of them moved closer.

Loki pointed at the table and frowned. “These are ugly. I will not see myself or my King in them.” Most of the adornments were very old style, with thick gold and gaudy jewels. It reminded Loki of costume jewelry from Midgard. Hideous. 

Boda nodded and called for another one of her assistants, sending the one carrying Loki’s new fur back to her quarters. The assistant came in and only had to look at the jewels on the table for a moment to realize what they were, and he handled them with far more care than Loki felt they deserved. In a few fits of pique or in one of his melancholies, he had thrown quite a few of the ugly things across a room or out a window. Ugly things deserved nothing better. 

The assistant began to ask how Loki requested they modify the jewelry, but Boda shook her head and only told him to gather them and leave. She knew Loki’s tastes by now, and Loki was very unpredictable in his responses to being questioned. 

They bade Boda goodbye and the sentry closed the door behind her, Thor chuckling at his brother and shaking his head. “I once listened to Boda lecture our mother about her poor care of a set of earrings that Odin had had made for her. How have you cowed her?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “I expect a high level of quality in my belongings, and we do quite literally pay people to care for those belongings properly.” Thor chuckled at him. “I am not nearly as kind as our mother.”

Thor beamed at him. “I know, my dear.” He looked down at his clothes and motioned Loki’s attention to them. “The feast begins soon, I cannot imagine you would feel it appropriate for me to show up in my underclothes.” Loki had thrown the closest clothes he could reach, and they happened to be the thin linens that Thor usually wore under his heavier armor and ceremonial outfits. To show up in them would be tantamount to being naked. No wonder Boda had nearly run out of the room. 

Loki flicked his fingers and Thor’s vestments floated over, his long red cape trailing behind. They hung in their air, and Thor smiled at his brother, waiting for Loki to dress him.

He obliged with a put-upon sigh, deftly doing up buckles and laces and he went to his knees to help his brother pull up his black armored pants. Thor buckled them up himself and pushed on Loki’s shoulder to keep him on the floor.

Ah. 

“Was the bear fur a replacement for the wolf you killed me in?” Loki questioned, and rough fingers twisted in his hair and yanked his head back. He bared his teeth but stayed quiet. 

“The loyalty spell is a double-edged sword,” Thor finally said, and he plucked at the bond between them, gold lights shining around them for a long moment. “Every second I am away from you I feel a calling to be at your side. It gets only worse with time.”

They had spoken little of the hylli in the past year. It had only grown stronger, but it was fairly manageable. The tugging at his seidr was only a faint annoyance, and he often did not notice it unless had been quite a few days since he had seen Thor. If he stroked the bond, a golden path would erupt before him that led him directly to his brother, and Thor could do the same. It was only a few steps away from a marriage bond, something that had amused Loki for quite awhile. It marked him as property of the crown, nearly as much of a bond as Thor’s lightning around his neck. He already knew how to break it.

“I cannot do anything about that,” Loki told his brother, settling into a more comfortable position on his heels, keeping his head tipped back so he was looking up his brother. “You researched the spell before the officiant cast it, as I recall.”

“I am not displeased,” Thor grumbled. “I only ask to make sure it is not causing you strain when I leave.”

“I do feel strained when you are away from me, but it is nothing I cannot deal with. I snuck into the city a few months ago, under disguise, and attempted to find the limits of the hylli. It would not allow me to speak against you, and after I tried, the seidr held my mouth shut.”

“First time for everything,” Thor grinned at him.

Ignoring that, Loki continued, “I cannot raise a hand to you, no matter how much you deserve it, and I cannot raise seidr to you.”

“I’ve noticed a great reduction in how many times you’ve stabbed me,” Thor thoughtfully replied, and Loki sighed dramatically.

“Yes, it has taken away my greatest pleasure in life.” 

Thor pulled him to his feet and brushed Loki’s hair away from his face. “I worry about you,” he told Loki, his voice pitched low, as if to thwart anyone attempting to overhear him. “I do not want a bond between us that harms you.”

Interesting words coming from the brother that was so possessive over him that he had hit him with a great jolt of lightning and had killed past renditions of him for imagined slights, and had had taken away everything he had promised Loki. But Loki simply smiled, and he lied. “I have no reason to find a way around it, for it does not harm me. Now release me, I must go bathe and ready myself for the feast tonight.”

Thor pressed a kiss to his forehead and pushed him toward the bathroom. Loki left a trail of clothes behind him and Thor called for a servant to clean them up, taking a seat to bend over and pull his socks and boots on. 

Awhile later, Loki was finally ready, and he stepped out of the bathroom, all perfumed and oiled hair and every bit of cloth perfectly in place. He examined himself in the mirror and a few small jewels floated over from the box, adorning his neck and ears with gold and red. 

Thor stepped up next to him and rested his hand on Loki’s shoulder. The two most powerful beings of their time, side by side, arm in arm. Light and dark. 

Thor offered his elbow to his brother and Loki took it, resting his hand on Thor’s forearm, flicking his free hand over his own cape so it fluttered behind him. 

They were seated in their respective chairs and Volstagg leaned in close, immediately launching into the brave story of how Thor had killed the mighty bear. Sif yelled over him, speaking of her even braver act of going into the den first, and Fandral insisted on waving over a bard, demanding a song of their valiance. A bear was no easy feat, after all! Even if Thor had been the one to kill it and skin it and field dress it. Loki listened with half an ear and a roll of his eyes. 

Before the bard could begin, steaming platters of meat were brought out, the biggest being placed before Thor and Loki. They waited for Loki to take the first bite and to give a smile of pleasure to his brother before he pounded his fist on the table and yelled for everyone else to dig in. 

A messenger rushed in, out of breath as he asked for the Kong’s attention. “I carry a missive from the Gatekeeper,” he gasped out and Thor waved him closer. He came around the table and leaned in close. “Midgard is being attacked!”


	3. CH3

When they were young, before Thor gained control of his powers, nearly anything would set him off. He would rain torrents down upon Asgard for days if his breakfast was late, or strike a tree with lightning if a branch hit him as he passed by it. He was a berserker in battle, leveling anyone close to him with overpowered force. 

Nothing could calm him, save for his brother. 

Loki would often be called from his lessons or his meals or even from sleep to quiet the storm. After all, Thor was his own anchor, and he should repay the kindness, especially if he did not want his home flooded or his books to burn. 

At first, he reveled in it, being the only person to quiet the great Thor. He could call his brother’s name from across the training grounds and the storm would calm, the sky going blue again, the winds settling. He could lay a hand on his brother’s arm and the heaving of the ground beneath them would slow and then stop. It was good to be the strength behind the power. And he made sure to help Thor gain control of his powers, the two of them staying holed up in a magical training room where not even Thor’s power could damage the palace. 

As time went on, as it always does, Loki grew weary of his role. He did not want to be pulled away from his books and his teachers for the third time that week because Thor grew too excited over besting yet another of his instructors. Loki wanted to be left alone. 

As such, it took longer and longer for Loki’s presence and seidr to calm Thor, although he was always successful. He did enjoy being the one to stop the beast, but he was tired. He could not escape to other realms or go on his own adventures when he could be summoned back to Thor’s side at any moment. 

The last straw was when he was awoken in the middle of the night for the third night in the row, to be brought to Thor’s own bed, where his brother had thrown a fit over the kitchen being out of his favorite dessert. 

Nothing Loki said or did would calm him, and Loki finally wept in tiredness, going to his knees next to his brother’s bed. He begged his brother to quiet the storm, to calm the raging beast.

And there, on his knees, Loki learned that above all, his brother wanted his submission. Thor wanted to be better than him, for Loki to know that he would always be lesser. Thor quickly gained control over his seidr after that, and was gifted Mjolnir, a weapon befitting a King. Loki, the cause of it all, was gifted nothing. He sulked at his brother’s feet, growing ever more bitter and more angry at the bonds keeping him there. 

_You will always kneel_ , Thor told him. _Either I lose control or you kneel_. Thor would push him to the ground and rest Mjolnir on his back and ask him if it was worth the struggle. 

So he knelt, and stayed his place.

While they were both young, only a few hundred years old, Loki had not yet learned the true understanding of keeping to his place in the world. He would grow tired of his brother’s rages, grow tired of the constant bruises, the hand on his neck, the threat of thunder at his heels. 

He would go to Frigga, and beg for a spell or a curse or anything for a reprieve. She would push his hair off his face and take his hands in hers, telling him that it was often the place of people like him to sacrifice for those who were greater than he. Loki had to sacrifice and give and beg for a semblance of a normal life, but Thor could do whatever he wished and was praised for it. Every plot and scheme would prove fruitless, even as they were his only hope, the only light in the dark in Thor’s shadow.

Frigga would smile at him and tell him that there was no one more suited to the care of his brother than him, and surely it was not too big of an ask to give his anchor what he needed? Usually she could calm him enough that he would push down his feelings of frustration and anger and go on in complacency for another decade or so.

It took one long night of Loki furiously complaining about Thor using Mjolnir to hold him to the floor as he and his friends feasted in the next room for Frigga to amusedly suggest that perhaps, they could temporarily enchant someone else, most likely a servant, in such a manner that Thor would mistake them for Loki. She rarely took his complaints seriously, since whenever she had brought up Loki’s frustrations to Thor, he would simply laugh them off and suggest that, like always, Loki was exaggerating for his own benefit. They spent many hours weekly together, and Loki often felt that he and his mother were two of the same kind, but she, as did everyone else, believed Thor over him.

Thor cast a great shadow, and Loki had chosen to kneel in it.

He had been desperate for a reprieve, desperate enough to ignore his guilt at forcing someone else to suffer his own shame, and he had willingly spilt blood for the enchantment.

Thor had broken the spell in only a few days, and his rage had nearly killed the poor servant that Frigga had volunteered for the duty. Loki had been hidden away in the forests and had felt Thor’s rage at his deception even from very far away.

Heimdall had pointed Thor in Loki’s direction before he could even begin an escape. Thor had crashed to the forest floor only a few yards from him, the sky night-dark and the storm furious above him.

Thor had grabbed him by the neck and thrown him into the closest tree, blustering about how Loki’s tricks had gone too far and how they were each other’s anchors and surely Thor did far more for Loki than Loki had ever done for him.

It was Thor’s thoughtlessness that truly drove Loki to shove his brother away with a large burst of seidr. “You put me on my knees every night, brother!” Loki had snarled, hate in his heart. “I am only ever told that I must sacrifice for you but nothing has to be done for me! I beg and I plead and I get _nothing!_ I will do it again and again until you anchor yourself to someone else if I cannot be allowed the freedom that is offered to you without price. I deserve to be treated the same, with my life in your hands or no.”

Taking pause, Thor had propped his hammer up on his shoulder and rubbed at his chin. “You do not enjoy it? I thought it brought you as much peace as it does me. I have felt out of control for very long, my brother. You bring me that.”

He felt as if he would ground his teeth into dust. “Peace, brother?” he had hissed, slinking forward and pushing Thor away from him with his seidr. “You believe I find _peace_ at your feet?” There came occasions when he did, when his life felt like a raging storm, but they were more and more rare. How could he find peace in something that was not even his choice? His knees were bruised, his heart was cold, his seidr barely restrained. He was not _at peace_.

“What can I do then?” Thor asked, dropping Mjolnir to the ground and opening his arms, as if asking for a hug. “I will do whatever you wish if it keeps you with me.”

He wanted to spit in Thor’s face, claw his eyes out, crush him down to the ground as Loki often felt crushed. “You cannot...do not force it upon me,” he finally had requested, and stepped closer to his brother, wincing that he had to ask at all. “I asked you to be my anchor first. You...you only take. I will give you what you need, whatever it is, for however long we live, if you just give something back.”

“You have to tell me, brother,” Thor told him, coming forward and clasping Loki’s jaw in his strong hands. “I will do whatever it takes to keep you. But you have to _tell me_.” He leaned in close and pressed a kiss between Loki’s eyes, right where his seidr curled up strong and powerful. Loki had sighed and leaned into his brother, body going limp. 

That had started the practice of Thor feeding him, of Thor braiding his hair, of Thor pampering him in his own way. It was jewels and gems and delicacies from other realms, anything valuable that would catch Loki’s magpie gaze. He wanted to feel valuable, feel as if he was worth something, and Thor did his best to give him that, putting his brother ahead of anyone and everyone. Even as Thor tried, or claimed to try, even then, Loki was still not at peace. 

When they were young, they were the most important people in each other’s lives. Thor took, and took, and took, and then, Loki believed he was capable of giving. 

Frigga marked the experiment a success, and waved off Loki’s attempts as explanation. It had been her idea after all.

That night, as Thor had taken his place at the table in their shared eating area, Loki dutifully went to his knees beside his brother, unable to hold in his gasp when a rough hand gently pet down his hair. It settled him, reminded him of where he belonged, of his place in the world, how he had a place in the world now. Of course, his bitterness grew again over the years, twisting around his heart, dragging him down, down, down, but he, for that moment, was content.

Over one thousand years later, Thor pulled Loki into his chambers, taking a seat behind his desk and motioning for Loki to take the seat opposite. Instead, Loki went to his knees at his brother’s side and pressed his forehead into Thor’s leg. He remembered their history, their long history between so many worlds and realities. It only fueled his hate and warmed the fire of revenge in his heart. Yet he needed to be kept to heel, even as he attempted to not fight his bonds. The most important lesson he had learned at Thor’s feet was patience. He could wait until the time was right. He knew it was coming, ever closer on the horizon.

Thor took a deep breath and held it for a few moments before letting it out, petting Loki’s hair. Loki kept his gaze on the floor. “I will head to Midgard as the sun rises,” he finally decided. “I should bring the Warriors Three and Sif with me.”

“You expect me to stay here?”

“I…yes, brother. I cannot risk—”

“Risk what?” Loki barked, shoving himself away from Thor and pushing to his feet, pacing angrily around the room. “I have more knowledge and insight of the Other and the Chitauri than anyone else alive. You would deny my experience because of some misguided attempt to protect me?”

“I cannot let any harm come to you, brother,” Thor started, and Loki gave out a hoarse laugh.

“Bold of you to say that when you _killed me!_ ”

Thor ran his hand down his face and sighed again. “I regret my rash actions every day, Loki. But I cannot bring them back, and if you come to harm, or are killed in this timeline, I cannot go back from that. This is the end of the spell. There is no coming back from this.”

“I am not a war trophy, I am not your bride. I do not sit at home and idly twiddle my fingers and gossip with the maidens while you are away. I am every bit as powerful and capable as you, Thor, and I have shown that time and time again! I hold as much power in our courts as you do, and I will not be told what to do!” The room trembled around them, Loki feeling on the edge of losing control for the first time in a very, very long time. “You will not keep me from him!” his voice thrummed with power and Thor even leaned away from him, blinking in shock. He did not even care if he died; he just had to get _away._ How dare Thor presume to tell him what to do? How dare he be treated as a child? 

“I did not do it on purpose,” Thor tried, as he had so many times before, but Loki just waved him off, clenching his fists and attempting to calm down. He could not lose control of himself, not now, not with so much of his future at stake, not when his freedom came ever closer by the day. “I will ask the officiant to cast a protective shield around you,” he finally said, and Loki bared his teeth. Was he a child on his first hunt? He was a warrior with over 1000 years of experience of fighting and fury and seidr under his belt. And Thor thought to keep him from Midgard, thought to keep him from Stephen? Truly his brother had gone mad.

“You will do nothing of the sort. I will go to Midgard with you in the morning and I will fight alongside you, as we have done our entire lives. I will do my _duty_ as Regent King to protect one of the realms under Asgard’s protection. You may be my King but you should know by now I do not answer to you.”

Thor leaned back in his chair and thought for a few moments before finally acquiescing. “Would ordering you to stay home do any good?”

“I can only assume you would rather me come with you than have to sneak onto Midgard and be unguarded by yourself and your friends,” Loki told his brother, and after calming himself down, he re-took his place at Thor’s feet.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, the two brothers taking comfort from each other. Loki slowly calmed himself down. He could not risk disrupting his plans or giving Thor any reason to suspect him. He was growing so close to being his own again. Thor finally tapped his brother on the jaw and Loki pushed to his feet, lounging back against Thor’s desk as the King called in one of the guards. 

“My brother and I will be going to Midgard in the morning.” He looked to Loki and smiled slightly. “It will be only the two of us. Please tell my mother she will be acting in my stead while we are absent.” The guard bowed and bade his leave, leaving Loki to slowly smile wide with all his teeth at his brother. 

“The two of us against the world,” Thor swore, and Loki went into his waiting arms.

* * *

They crashed onto the landing deck of Stark Tower, Thor announcing their presence with a great bolt of lightning and clap of thunder. He released Loki from his grasp, and Loki quickly put his clothes and hair to right, shooting Thor a scowl when his brother went to go inside before he was ready.

Thor smiled slightly. “Tony Stark once called you a ‘full tilt diva’, you know. I believe he may have known you better than you realized.”

Loki waved his brother towards the closest door and rolled his eyes. “Strong words coming from the man with his own name on his tower.”

“As if you would not do the same given the chance.”

Thor held the door open for him and in they went.

It was similar to the last time Loki had been there, all those lives ago. Stark greeted them with whirring repulsors and a warning that his entire building was ready to attack, especially as their planet was already under invasion. Thor only laughed.

“I am King Thor Allfather, of Asgard. This is my brother, and most dearest to me, Loki, Regent King and Emissary of our Realm. We are protectors of Earth, and we are here to help.”

Stark forced them to talk to Nick Fury, a great man that reminded Loki of Odin. He took a strong, immediate dislike to the man, but did his very best to hide it. They were interviewed separately, with Loki being as unhelpful as he could manage. He could tell them very little anyway, because of the hylli, but he was not a giving kind of person.

He learned that Captain America was in Germany, where his counterpart in this time had also gone first. He missed Steve Rogers. He missed the kind man that had done his best to understand Loki’s long, tumultuous life. He learned that Thanos’s weapon in this timeline was a Dark Elf from Svartalfheim, a lieutenant named Algrim.

The same Algrim that had so ruthlessly slaughtered his dear mother, in whatever lifetime he had been living then.

He was thrown back to his cell, his furious seidr, his bloody feet and his torn-out hair, his unquiet rage, and he looked Nick Fury straight in the eye and slammed his fist down on the table. “If you do not want this building destroyed, you will bring me to my brother,” he told the man, but Fury seemed to disbelieve him. 

More fool him.

Loki spread his hands out on the table and called for Thor.

The building shook with Thor’s roar, and the door burst off its hinges, narrowly missing Fury and Loki. Thor stormed into the room and pulled Loki away from Fury, lightning crackling around them.

“Well,” Fury said, leaning back in his chair, “you did tell me it was stupid to separate the two of you.” He looked to Thor, who took a few quick breaths to calm down, now that he had Loki within his grasp. “You’ll help us, as long as we keep the two of you together?”

“Midgard is under my protection,” Thor said, keeping himself between Fury and Loki. “I have bested many an enemy greater than this.”

“It’s Algrim, of Svartalfheim,” Loki whispered, and watched as his brother’s body straightened and tensed.

“Tell me where the Elf is,” Thor demanded, “and I will kill him.”

Fury led them out of the small dark room, and back up to the room where Stark was readying to leave. “Cap just captured our intruder, he’s bringing him here in a Helicarrier.”

“What happens next?” Thor asked, and Stark began to answer, but Loki interrupted him.

“His only goal is the Tesseract. SHIELD will attempt to use it as a weapon against the Chitauri, which will go poorly.” Loki looked up from his hands and smiled. Stark visibly recoiled. “I would like to see him.”

“Of course,” Thor said, and he turned to Stark and Fury. “Where is this Helicarrier?”

“Somewhere out of Germany,” Fury replied. “Do you need coordinates?”

“No need.” Thor looked up at the ceiling and raised Mjolnir, yelling, “Heimdall!”

A massive blast of bright rainbow light hit the four of them, and they soared through the Bifrost, Heimdall neatly landing them in the helms room of the Helicarrier.

Loki smiled again as Stark went to his knees and gagged. Fury staggered and then caught himself on the nearest table, and he and Thor exchanged amused looks.

The Widow surprised them with a gun, and to Loki’s amusement, Clint Barton was directly behind her, an arrow nocked and pointing at them. Thanos was surely to be disappointed with Algrim’s poor choice of lieutenants. Good.

“We come in peace,” Loki purred, stepping up next to Thor as Stark and Fury regained their breath. 

“What kind of transportation was that?!” Stark barked at them as he finally pushed himself to his feet.

“The Bifrost?” Thor questioned. “I forget your Midgardian transportation is so convoluted and plebeian compared to ours.” He smiled disarmingly at the Widow and Barton, who both continued to point their weapons at him. There was a strange look on Barton’s face, but it cleared the moment Loki focused on him. “Where is the Elf? I would like to have a few words with him.” He tossed Mjolnir up into the air and looked around the room as if Algrim would be brought before him or that the Dark Elf would appear in front of him. 

“Put your weapons down,” Fury barked, “They’re allies.” He waved at Thor and Loki and gave quick introductions. “We also have Dr. Banner down the hall”—Stark bustled out of the room—“and Captain America is around somewhere.”

The Widow glared at them but obliged to show Thor and Loki to the prison. They passed the laboratory where Banner and Stark were talking over the Scepter, and Loki paused for a moment, flashing the two of them a nasty smile.

Algrim was as ugly as ever, hunched in the middle of the glass cell. Fury stayed back against the wall and Thor and Loki stepped up to the glass, Thor pounding his fist against it.

The Dark Elf swung his head up and his deep-set eyes widened. “The Princes of Asgard,” he sneered, and Loki only smirked, ignoring his brother’s rage.

“I assumed that Svartalfheim was given notice of your coronation,” Loki mused, turning to look at his brother, who nodded slowly.

“He has not been on his home world for quite some time,” Thor realized. He lifted Mjolnir and Algrim took an instinctive step back. “I am Thor Allfather, King of Asgard. Protector of the Nine Realms. You are in violation of the treaty between Svartalfheim and Asgard, which means your death belongs to me.” He looked to Fury. “Lower the glass.”

Fury refused, and Loki waved his hand, simultaneously closing them in the room and opening the door to the prison. Thor hefted Mjolnir and snarled, racing forward. For only a moment, Loki was sure that Thor would turn on him, bring his hammer down upon him once again, and he shook the thought away, unsure if he was frightened of it or hoping for it. He would feel that pain for the rest of his days.

It took only one great crushing blow, and Algrim was a corpse at the King’s feet.

Loki removed the enchantments keeping them in the room and finished examining his nails before he met Thor’s barely restrained gaze. “Pity he did not struggle more,” he drawled, and Thor snorted. 

Thor and Fury were quickly immersed in conversation, but Loki’s attention was drawn away by the sounds of arguing down the hall. He drifted down to the open door of the laboratory, his attention immediately drawn to the Scepter.

It was a truly lovely thing. He was powerful enough to not need it now, but he remembered the rush, the tingle of his hands, the addiction of having mindless slaves. He wondered if Barton had seen it and remembered, if Thor’s fracturing spell effected more than the two of them. 

Banner, Stark, and Captain America were arguing. 

The Captain saw him first, and Loki watched as a brief flash of recognition went over Steve’s face. He missed his friend; as someone who had had few friends in his life, Loki had been greedy for the ones he had managed to keep around. After their times of discontent and arguments, Steve had grown dear to him. He had never been able to figure out if it was a similar friendship on the Captain’s side, but Loki had been pleased enough to have someone be kind to him.

He motioned to the Scepter once the three of them were looking at them, and he leaned into the heavy hand Thor wrapped around his neck. “The Scepter is what is causing you to argue. It breeds discontent.” He tipped his head to the side to wave his brother forward. “My King has rid you of your...problem.”

“The Elf is dead,” Thor told them, and he tugged Loki into the laboratory, putting his brother on the furthest side of the room from the Specter before going to examine it. He introduced himself to the Captain and Banner and then bent over the Scepter, frowning at it for a moment before turning back to the group behind him. 

“You’re a King?” Banner asked. 

“The guy’s from legend, apparently,” Stark drawled. “It’s how we got here so fast.” He motioned at Loki, and Thor quickly moved so that he was between any of the Avengers and his brother. They all noticed but did not comment on it. “This is Loki.”

“The trickster god?” Banner asked, and Loki smiled at him.

“I prefer God of Mischief,” he told them, but shrugged all the same. “I am Regent King Loki, Emissary to King Thor.”

That seemed to raise more questions but Stark interjected, “If you’re the God of Mischief then why wasn’t it you up there attempting to invade Earth?”

“I have better things to do,” was all Loki would reply. 

“Did you say you killed him? Algrim?” the Captain asked, and Thor lifted his hammer. “He was able to withstand the full force of the Helicarrier’s guns, and you killed him?”

“I am mighty,” Thor replied. “His death belonged to me.”

Loki smirked as the Avengers exchanged confused glances. “Run that by me again?” Stark requested.

“There has been a peace treaty between our Realms for longer than I have been alive. As Midgard is under Asgard’s protection, it is included in the peace treaty. If the treaty is violated, the reigning authority in that Realm is under oath to do what is necessary to protect that Realm. Given that, in this situation, I believed that no punishment would fit the crime, I took his life into my own hands.”

“Did he not deserve a trial?” the Captain asked. “Jury of his peers and all.”

Thor frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am King of Asgard. I am all the jury he needs. He would have—” he suddenly turned to Loki and put his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “The Chitauri is still on their way.”

“He does not have the Tesseract,” Loki replied, but he tapped his chin with his finger. “Selvig does, however.” He turned to Fury. “How long does it take us to get to New York?” 

“At least twelve hours,” Fury replied. “You know of the Tesseract?”

They ended up moving the conversation to a conference room, where Loki was offered a seat at the table. He gave his brother a small smile and then outlined everything he knew about the Tesseract and the oncoming invasion. When questioned about how he knew, and why they hadn’t stopped Algrim before he even came to Midgard, Loki waved off their concern. “I have some knowledge of things that may come to pass, but I cannot act upon them until the trigger action, the one that causes everything after, occurs. Can someone be judged for something they have not done?”

“Even if you know they’re going to do it?” Banner asked. 

“Or if it something they cannot control,” Loki replied, raising his eyebrows at the scientist. He continued explaining how the Chitauri could be defeated, how Selvig could still heat the Tesseract enough to open the Portal. He ignored the rest of their conversation, enjoying as easily half of everything went over Thor’s head. For all his brother’s love for Midgard, he had dedicated almost no time to understanding their culture, even after having lived amongst them for what truly amounted to centuries. Especially as they had grown more comfortable with their roles on Asgard, Thor had settled into his life, and had been busy with ruling and preparing for defeating Thanos. Loki was too bored by Midgard media to expend the energy to understand it, but that was neither here nor there. Loki had always taken an interest in other cultures and societal norms, and even as mundane as humans were, their differing cultures and belief systems were a bit interesting.

Fury explained the Avengers Initiative, and Thor pulled Loki out of the room for a brief moment, corralling his brother against a wall. Loki looked over Thor’s shoulder, through the open door behind them, and smirked at their shocked faces.

“Do you wish to do this?”

“We have more responsibilities to consider than you did the last time you joined the Avengers. You cannot run off to Midgard whenever they feel threatened.”

Thor nodded and dropped his head, leaning his forehead on Loki’s shoulder. “Would you do it? You have more leniency in having to be in Asgard daily than I do.”

“You would have to take up more responsibility,” Loki warned him, after thinking about it for a moment, and strong fingers dug into his hips as Thor lifted his head and nodded again. 

“Have I asked too much of you?”

“I enjoy it, brother.” 

Thor affectionately tugged at Loki’s hair and stepped away. “I will give the Avengers my alliance, and you will join them.”

They rejoined the Avengers and relayed their decision, everyone looking shocked. “Aren’t you a famous warrior?” Stark asked. “You already killed someone to keep Earth safe. That’s the whole point of the Avengers.”

“To kill people?” Loki replied, looking up from where he had been polishing his rings with the edge of his cloak. 

Nobody dignified him with an answer and he rolled his eyes, going back to ignoring the rest of them. Thor explained his responsibilities as King and how he could not cavort off to Midgard whenever he wished. Loki, however, for all of his duties, did not live a life where he had routines, or where he was ever someone expected him to be. Loki would join them. Fury made a request to interview Loki, to see if he would be a good fit, but the Captain stayed his hand, frowning at Loki.

“I feel as though I shouldn’t, but I trust him,” the Captain said, and Loki met Steve’s gaze. He thought, for the first time in over a year, of Thor’s suggestion that he could implant memories in the minds of their friends. 

Perhaps the fracturing of Thor’s spell had effected more people than just the two of them. Perhaps Loki would have more friends than only his brother in this timeline. 

Everyone seemed to disbelieve Steve’s claim, but he remained steadfast. He even came around the table and held out his hand, introducing himself as Steve Rogers.

“Loki Odinson,” Loki replied, and he looked for Thor’s permission before he could shake Steve’s hand.

Nothing of note happened when they shook hands, but Steve was warm and strong, and he took the seat to Loki’s right. He wondered if that meant the same thing on Midgard as it would mean on Asgard, but going by their behavior and how everyone was seated haphazardly around the table, he doubted it. Barton was sat directly across from him, for one thing, but he somehow managed to never meet Loki’s gaze, even though Loki could regularly feel the archer’s gaze on him. 

Loki always sat at Thor’s right hand, and it was his place, second only to his place on his knees. He was Thor’s most treasured and trusted companion, and in Asgard, his own right hand stayed empty, as he trusted few and treasured even less. The right hand was for a dearest companion, as the left was for a dearest lover or spouse. It was a complicated part of Asgard’s nobility traditions, and only practiced by those in the higher echelons of society. By Steve voluntarily taking his right hand, he was telling those in the room that he would fight at Loki’s side. How very interesting.

Perhaps it was not exactly the same, but the look on Steve’s face showed him that it was a close enough sentiment.

They had an entire night of travel to New York City ahead of them, and Thor requested sleeping quarters for himself and Loki, and was pulled into conversation between Stark and Fury. Loki turned to Steve, who was already looking at him. 

“You remind me of someone,” Steve told him. 

“I am certain I have never been told that before,” Loki mused. “There are no men like me.”

Steve chuckled. “I don’t have a doubt about that. But you seem familiar somehow.”

It was strange, to know so much about this man, and who he would become, and to also not know him at all. He knew what the future held for Steve Rogers, and could do nothing about it. At the very least, Loki could fight alongside him. 

“It is surely the legends written about me,” Loki finally replied, waving his hand. “I know that your schools teach of my people.”

“How much of those are true, by the way?”

Perhaps history was meant to repeat itself, in whatever timeline he was in. Perhaps they were always meant to end up here, with this conversation, with Steve smiling at him and the two of them trading stories. 

“Few of them. What do you remember?”

“I remember more of your brother,” Steve replied, turning his head to look at Thor. To Loki’s surprise, that didn’t bring up any old resentments or jealousy. “I feel like you’ve heard that a lot.”

“Everyone knows of Thor, and his achievements, his great acts of heroism. What they do not know is that I was with him for each of those stories, saving his hide. But it is no matter. My brother requires my attention.” Thor had sent a spark of lightning down the hylli, and he slotted his hand onto the back of Loki’s neck as he stepped up next to his brother. 

Fury led them to an empty bunk room, and bade them goodnight. Loki wrinkled his nose and turned to his brother. “Perhaps we could come back in the morning? Heimdall will surely oblige.”

Thor laughed at him and waved for Loki to begin undressing him. “Surely you have slept in worse places than this, brother?”

Obliging his King, Loki began undoing buckles and laces and leaned into Thor’s grasp. “Not since my Regency, of course, nor many years before that. I also am horrified in your defense, that your friends would believe these quarters befitting a King.”

“They do not seem to be my friends now,” Thor informed him, amused. “Especially as you seem to be looking to connect with Steve Rogers.”

Loki looked around the room again and waved his hands. The bunks all folded up into the walls and the closest one lengthened and widened, slowly transforming into a bed of similar size and shape to the one in their bedroom on Asgard. It was large enough for three men of Thor’s size, which meant that it was nearly big enough for the two of them.

Thor slid between the sheets, flipping down Loki’s side of the bed. He quickly undressed to his linens and at Thor’s behest, pulled off his tunic and then took his accustomed place at Thor’s chest. “Steve is kind to me,” Loki finally said, and leaned his head over Thor’s chest, listening to the thundering of his brother’s great and mighty heart. Perhaps, if he could push and pull Steve Rogers just the right way, he could have a man at his back when he inevitably rose up against his brother. He seemed to be the type of man to stand up against injustice, even injustice as old and ancient as the ones Loki suffered under Thor.

“I considered him my shield brother when we fought together,” Thor mused. “I respect him a great amount.”

Loki quickly fell asleep, dreamless.

He was woken a few hours later by Thor sliding out of the bed from beneath him. He murmured his brother’s name and Thor pet his hair, calming him back to sleep.

When he woke again, the door was open and light was shining in from down the hall. Loki dressed himself and put the bunk room back to rights, picking Thor’s cape up off the floor and slinging it around his own shoulders. His brother preferred a plain crimson cape, but Loki had had their personal tailor make ones of various deep reds, with golden or silver stitching along the edges, and a few of the ceremonial ones had hand-stitched designs that were only a shade or two darker than the cape. His brother was comfortable dressing like a Prince, and had never learned how to dress as a King. How pitiful. Good thing he had Loki.

He left the bunkroom and found the Avengers in the helms room, handing his brother his cape back and re-attaching it to his shoulder guards. “There is breakfast still served in the kitchen,” Thor told him, and Loki turned to look out through the great windows in front of them.

Fascinating.

He had no love for Midgard, as it could never compare to Asgard, but the vast ocean beneath them was a great and terrible thing. They were far above it, but the skies were clear beneath them, and they looked down and far upon the dark waters beneath them. Asgard had her great sea, but nothing like this.

“It reminds me of Jotunheim,” Loki noted, and then asked for someone to show him to the kitchens.

Stark obliged. “How often do you guys need to sleep anyway?”

“Less than you’d think. Certainly not every night, but every few nights is custom.”

“Is it normal for brothers to sleep together?”

“It is no less normal than abnormal.” Loki looked amusedly at the Man of Iron. “You are very interested in my sleeping habits.”

Stark wasn’t flustered and he only grinned. “I’m nosey.” He led Loki into the kitchens, where Steve, the Widow, and Hawkeye were talking quietly over their empty plates. “Does the big guy need any food?”

Loki stepped closer to the buffet-style arrangement of Midgardian breakfast foods and glanced around to see if there was a server somewhere or if he had to do it himself. Stark was the only one who noticed and he rolled his eyes, coming forward to show Loki the tongs and the serving spoons. How shameful. Did they not know he was a King? “Do you mean my brother or Dr. Banner?”

Stark’s hand froze on the serving spoon of what looked to be eggs. “What do you know about Banner?”

He picked up a disc of something that smelled like spiced meat and placed it on his plate, stepping down the table to examine the oatmeal. He had grown accustomed to Midgardian cuisine during his time in the Sanctum, but that had been another lifetime, in a different body. “I know that you are a fan of his ‘enormous green rage monster’, and that Dr. Banner is far more intelligent than he appears.”

“How intelligent does he appear?” the Widow queried, and Loki pulled the serving spoon out of Stark’s hand and took a bit of the eggs for himself. 

“All of the people in this Realm are no more intelligent to me than an infant,” Loki told them, and all four of the Avengers went immediately on the offensive. He smiled as disarmingly as he could, and put his free hand up in the air in supplication. “I mean no offense. But Dr. Banner is a startlingly smart infant.” He continued to fill his plate and then took the seat directly across from them. Stark took the seat directly to Loki’s right, and Loki frowned, flicking his fingers a bit.

The chair that Stark was sitting on switched places with the one next to him, and the seat directly to Loki’s right was empty again.

“Oh, now _that_ was interesting,” Stark said, and leaned forward, closer to Loki. “So, what, Reindeer Games, first you call us infants, now you float me around like a feather? How’d you do it? Electromagnetic propulsion? Some Asgardian invention? Ropes and pulleys?”

“The people of your Realm call it magic.” He lifted his hand in the air and covered it with green seidr, and even the Widow and Barton looked shocked. Steve was looking at him like Loki was a puzzle with only a few pieces left to place, and Stark was fascinated.

“Let me see it,” Stark demanded, reaching for Loki’s hand.

He pulled away and shook his head. “Do not touch me,” he warned, and Stark froze, then slowly pulled back. “I cannot teach any of you how to harness seidr. Something about your race gives you no ability to wield it. You can pull energy from other dimensions, but you cannot natively use it.”

“How do I learn how to do that?” Stark questioned, and Loki shook his head.

“I know there are training schools, but they are very difficult to find and require years of intense study. Perhaps, with all of your money and resources, you could find one. Have you any more questions or may I break my fast?”

They relinquished his attentions long enough for Loki to eat, and he ate obnoxiously slowly, noting the amused glance Steve shot him before he and the Widow and Barton got up to clear their plates. The three of them worked together to clear up the breakfast food, throwing some of it out and storing some of it in smaller containers and then putting those smaller containers into some sort of cold cupboard. He could feel Barton’s eyes on him occasionally, but he did not deign to look back. Stark grew bored enough watching Loki eat that he went to help, and Loki finished up quickly, using his seidr to clean his plate and then put it back into a different cupboard. 

He left before they noticed he was finished, and made his way back to his brother. He glanced around the Helicarrier, but he had seen enough of it during his first time on it all those years ago. 

Thor was still in the helms room, arms crossed over his chest as he looked out over the vast horizons. In the very far distance, there was a bit of land, coming ever closer.

Thor held out his hand and Loki went underneath it, leaning against Thor’s side.

“Are you ready?” Thor questioned him.

He had been waiting for this for centuries. He turned his head to smile at Thor. “Brother, I have never been more ready.”

Thor smiled in return.

* * *

The Helicarrier floated above New York City, and they all boarded onto something called a Quinjet, which took them down to Stark Tower. Loki floated Algrim’s body behind them, as he and Thor wanted to take it to Svartalfheim and speak to their Queens. He had already cast a preserving charm on the Dark Elf’s body, and he had summoned a raven to send a message to Svartalfheim’s Queens. 

But that wasn’t important at the moment. They had to focus on stopping the Chitauri invasion. Hopefully it would be appropriately dramatic.

Loki asked Stark where he could temporarily store Algrim’s body, and he was led to an empty storeroom. He placed a few security spells around the room that barred entry from anyone other than him or Thor, and left Algrim to rot.

He rejoined the Avengers in Stark’s living area, where he was offering drinks. Loki was offered a glass with a small amount of liquor that Stark cautioned him to savor, as it was one of only fifty bottles of that type of whiskey that were ever made. Loki swallowed the entire glass down in one long sip and held it out for another. It was like drinking a strong tea. Stark ogled at him for a moment and then poured Loki another couple fingers of the whiskey, which he obligingly savored. Thor refused a glass, and asked for Loki to bring him a drink.

Loki quickly snapped his fingers and an oversized mug of ale appeared in front of his brother. It was customary for a King to not drink in another Realm, as his Allfather seidr was greatly powered by Asgard, and to imbibe food or drink was worried to dilute it. Loki had long ago disproven that theory, but it was still a custom that Thor generally chose to abide by. Loki had no such restrictions upon his own actions, however, and would gladly drink as much of Stark’s expensive and rare alcohol as he could.

The Avengers sat around Stark’s massive dining table as he ordered them dinner. Thor kept the seat to his left empty, and Loki sat to his right, and then after a few uncomfortable moments of Loki glaring at anyone who attempted to sit next to him, Steve took the seat to Loki’s right. He noticed that Barton stayed on the other side of the table. Loki offered his glass to Steve, who shook his head and said that he couldn’t metabolize alcohol. 

“Perhaps Asgardian wine would do the trick,” Loki mused, and tapped his finger on the table in front of him. A large gold chalice appeared on the table in front of them and Loki offered it to Steve, who hesitantly took it. 

Whatever magic from Thor’s fractured time travel spell that was left over in Steve had him trusting Loki enough to take a sip of the wine. Even though Loki knew it would not affect the super soldier, he and the rest of the table watched in interest as Steve took a sip.

He shook his head and handed the chalice back, a look of defeat on his face. Loki handed it off to his brother and Thor swallowed it all down with a grin. His brother slammed his fist on the table and called for another round, which Loki amusedly supplied.

A few of the Avengers asked to try the wine, and Thor shook his head, even as he sipped at his second glass. “Not while we still have an invasion to stop, my friends,” he told them. “Even one sip would incapacitate you for the night. I can drink an entire bottle and then go fight an army.” Thor slung his arm over Loki’s shoulder and pulled his brother close. “What happens next, brother?”

Loki looked around at the Avengers. “The influence of the Scepter will be active until it is forcefully terminated. Generally the wielder of the Scepter has to terminate the connection..”

“It didn’t end with Algrim’s death?” Steve asked.

He shook his head and looked to his brother. Thor only nodded at him, and Loki took that as permission. They were meant to be his allies, after all. His friends. 

“The Scepter contains within it an Infinity Stone. As does the Tesseract.” He quickly explained what an Infinity Stone was and the specific purpose behind each one, and paused before telling them about Thanos. Steve was looking at Loki as if he thought there was more that wasn’t being told, but he stayed quiet, and Barton’s face was completely white. The Avengers all look stunned, but Stark made a joke about just hitting Selvig over the head and stopping everything before it even began.

“It could work,” Loki offered, and Stark and Banner immediately began comparing ideas about how they could incapacitate Selvig.

The spell that the officiant had placed upon Loki when he had become Thor’s closest advisor had greatly enhanced his hearing, especially when there could be a potential threat to his King. He had grown used to it, and had used it to his advantage many times over the past year. As such, Loki was the first to hear the thump of someone or something landing on the landing pad outside. He heard it before Stark’s sensors alerted them, and was already pushing to his feet and pulling Thor with him.

They were quickly followed by the rest of the Avengers, and Steve quickly made a plan of attack, which Loki and Thor blazed right through as they both bolted outside.

Selvig was huddled over the Tesseract, and Thor raised Mjolnir, a cage of lightning forming around them. Loki threw a massive green ball of seidr at Selvig, and it formed a cell around the poor man. He threw another bolt of seidr and it knocked Selvig unconscious, the Tesseract falling from his hands and rolling across the landing pad. 

He only been tempted little by the Scepter, but seeing the Tesseract so close gave Loki pause. He wanted it. He remembered the power of it, the ability to transport anywhere in the universe in a blink of an eye. He _wanted._ He stayed his place as Thor picked it up and muttered a few words over it, sending it away. Once it was out of his sight, Loki relaxed.

Steve and Fury ran up to Selvig and Thor and Loki dropped their seidr shields, Thor helping Steve pick up Selvig and bring him inside Stark’s penthouse. Loki suddenly remembered that Thor had been friends with Selvig all that time ago, when he had been sent to Midgard because he was unworthy. 

Loki stayed back as they revived Selvig and made sure the man was free of the Scepter’s influence. He kept waiting for something else to happen, but it was over. Thanos would not be coming to Midgard, not without the portal. He would not have to fight the Chitauri, or the Other. He had prepared himself for a fight, and there was no fight incoming. He felt bereft. Surely more should happen?

“You alright?” Steve asked. He had changed out of the Captain America costume, and was in regular Midgardian wear, of a simple t-shirt and jeans, with a maroon sweater with a hood. 

“I had prepared for battle,” Loki admitted. “But we managed to stop it before it even arrived.”

“Is there any other way Thanos and his army could come to Earth?”

Loki shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nothing that would bring him here in the next few months. From what I understand, his ship is too large for hyperspace travel.”

“Hyperspace?” Banner asked from across the room. Both he and the Widow came closer. “What do you know of that?”

He shrugged. “Not a great deal. I know that it is possible, and some ships can use fissures in the universe as ‘jump spots’ to travel great distances in very small amounts of time. But the ship that Thanos captains…you would not believe the size of it if you saw it. It is by no means capable of that kind of travel, and he would have to bring his army with him if he came to Midgard. That was the purpose of using the Tesseract, so that he wouldn’t have to find another way.”

None of them looked comforted by that, but Banner asked Loki a few more questions about hyperspace travel, which he was generally unable to answer. Traditional space travel had never quite been an interest of Loki’s, and he had read no more than a couple books on the topic, a very long time ago. He knew of some of the basic sciences of it, but those seemed to be things that Banner already knew. 

He thought about offering to bring an Asgardian scientist to Midgard for Banner and Stark to learn from, but he didn’t know them well enough in this timeline to do that yet. He would have to help save the world another time before that wouldn’t seem out of place. 

Selvig was pronounced as good as new, and Stark was cataloguing everything the man was telling him about what he had learned during his time bonded to Algrim. What Loki overheard was enough for him to assume that the invasion would have failed anyway—Algrim simply wasn’t smart enough to figure out a good plan with what Thanos had given him. Loki had schemed and made plan after plan and had known exactly how everything would happen. He hadn’t quite been able to account for Thor, but he never had been good at that.

They released Selvig to SHIELD and Fury had a few agents come collect him, and then everyone was in Stark’s living room. A few of them had those strange devices that Loki had seen during his time with Stephen, but he was uninterested.

“Hey guys, we did good today. Let’s take tomorrow off. Anyone ever tried shawarma? There’s a shawarma joint a few blocks from here. Anyone want to try it out?” Loki had forgotten how uncomfortable Stark was with silence.

Everyone agreed and followed Stark to the elevator. Thor lagged behind, and Loki turned back to look at him.

“I must return to Asgard. I am needed there.”

It wasn’t entirely incorrect, but Thor had been gone longer for two days before without issue. Loki frowned. “Svartalfheim can wait until tomorrow. Do you wish to return to Asgard? I will tell them we are not going to join them for whatever a shawarma joint is.”

“No,” Thor said, shaking his head. “I’m going back to Asgard. I’ll take Algrim with me.”

“You wish for me to stay?”

Thor clasped him on the back of his neck and pulled him in close enough for their foreheads to touch. “My duties are to Asgard. You are my Emissary.” Ah, yes. Of course. “Your duties are to other Realms, and now to the Avengers. If you fight in the war, you are obliged to also engage in the team-bonding exercises after.” Poor excuse for a war, but he understood the rationale.

“As you wish, my King. I will call for Heimdall when we have finished here.”

Loki stepped back and inclined his head, pressing his hand briefly to the middle of Thor’s chest before turning back and meeting Steve at the elevator. They stepped in and Steve pressed one of the buttons, and Loki met Thor’s gaze as the doors slid shut. His brother looked almost sad, as if he was losing Loki to someone else. 

Nothing to worry about now. He had stepped into a world where he was suddenly one of the ‘good guys’, and Loki was going to revel in the feeling of that for as long as he could manage.

Steve was quiet on the ride down, and Loki watched the numbers light up as they descended. 

“Do you know what a shawarma joint is?”


	4. CH4

Thor…enjoyed being King. Perhaps enjoyment was too strong a word, but he took pride in his duty. 

The Kingship had long been a topic of strife in Thor’s life. His first coronation had gone so poorly, and he had known he wasn’t ready when Loki masquerading as Odin had asked him. As he matured, the looming of his future was a painful sore, something he rarely thought about. 

His first crowning upon the _Statesman_ , for the lack of ceremony surrounding it, had been traumatic. He had just lost most of his people, and had intentionally destroyed his home. His entire Realm and his entire history and his entire life was on that ship.

There had been nearly a month in space, where he had attempted to learn his new duties while also doing his best to adjust and come to terms with losing so much. He had to suddenly be a King, no longer given the freedom of being a Prince.

And, then, Thanos.

And Loki, so soon after their reconciliation. So soon after they had been all the other had left in the world. So soon after he and his beloved brother had finally sat down and promised no tricks, no hits, just talking. So soon after he had finally been given the smallest glimpse into his brother’s tumultuous mind, seen the way that Thor’s actions had left scars on Loki’s soul. They were very different, but Thor still thought the world of his brother. Nobody brought him greater joy, or greater sorrow.

And then, and then, and then…

The months of being the Last Asgardian. The months of desperation. The months of being a King of nothing.

The spells he had found had given him hope, after years of being without it. But it had driven him mad—he would hear Loki say things to him, but his brother’s mouth would not move. He would see things, see Thanos in the distance, see his brother’s hand go for a knife that was not there. His paranoia drove him to kill his own heart, over and over again. 

He had been lost in the world of his own making, and he could not live as that man any longer.

His brother had come to save him, as he always had, and everything had slowed. Suddenly, life was not uncontrollably spinning by him and he could grasp more than the edges.

Suddenly, he was a King to a Realm again. Suddenly, his mind and the lightning in his veins had quieted. Suddenly, his brother was his again.

Now, after what had truly been one of his greatest mistakes, Thor was a King, and he had done it properly this time. He had a people, a home. It was no longer painful to be King, to recognize his destiny.

As always, his brother soothed the aches of his soul, cooled the heat of his rage and the spark of his seidr. His brother was the soft edges to the hardness of Thor’s life.

He knew Loki thought himself to be the sharp one of the two of them, but Thor was all right angles and angry weather and he wore Loki down until his brother was only smoothness, only his. 

By the Fates, Thor loved him. He held his brother as close as he could, and Loki did not attempt to slither away. Instead, his shyster brother had done the opposite of every version before him and had finally given Thor all he had ever needed and wanted. And by God did he _want_.

He was a King again.

He wondered if they had a name for him yet. Odin had had many names, only a few of which he had been particularly fond of. Thor felt as if he could be the Mad King, the one sent into insanity by the power of his rule.

Loki still craved power and recognition, and Thor gave that to him. He would have given him more, but there were still expectations burdening his shoulders. Loki would chafe if he had to be a King with Odin and Frigga still watching his every move. So Thor gave what he could.

His brother seemed happy, content.

Thor had servants bring blankets to the Observatory, where he covered Algrim’s body. Heimdall watched him with those sharp eyes as he covered the body and said nothing. “I will take him to Svartalfheim when Loki returns.” He made to leave to take the long walk back to the palace, and he looked to Heimdall again. “Do you know?”

Heimdall did not hesitate in replying, “I know that you changed something, Sire, but I know not what.”

He wanted to admit everything, he wanted to come clean and have someone in the know not directly affected by his choices. But he stayed his mouth and only bade Heimdall goodbye and began the long walk.

His home was beautiful. There was no place that Thor had been in all of his long, ancient life that he loved more than Asgard. 

It was not a home without Loki, however. But his brother would be there soon.

Frigga met him at the palace doors, and she greeted him with a smile. “Is Midgard safe, my son?” she queried, and Thor offered her his arm. She was warm against his side, her small strong hand resting on top of his forearm, as they walked up to Thor’s chambers.

“We kept them safe, yes,” he replied. “Loki will be back soon.”

During their past year as Asgard’s royalty, Loki was often gone from him, either to meet with other realms or for other reasons of his own. Thor was lost whenever Loki left him. But he soldiered on, having been given no other choice. 

“He always comes back to you,” Frigga told him, and Thor smiled, both at her and of all the other times she had given him similar sentiment. 

“I worry about him,” he finally said, and Frigga followed him into his chambers, taking a seat in front of the fireplace. Thor took his own seat behind his great wide desk and he pushed around some of the scrolls and papers that had accumulated over his short absence. Most of it was work that Loki would be happy to do, but Thor knew that if Loki would be spending more time with the Avengers on Thor’s behest, then Thor would have to take up his slack. Loki would probably be willing to take his duties with him to Midgard, but Thor didn’t want to burden his brother. If Loki felt overworked, he could run.

“As do I, dear,” his mother told him, her voice gentle. “We all worry about him, far more than he realizes.”

“Have you done any weaving lately?” If he thought too much of Loki, left behind on Midgard, surely he would go there and pull Loki into his arms and never again let another person lay eyes on him. 

“I have seen some things, some of which are far from passing.” Her gaze went distant as she stared into the fire. “Loki searches for someone, for something. It was taken from him. But I cannot see how, or what he seeks.” She sighed. “There is something great and powerful blocking me, and so many things behind that.” She turned and Thor was certain there was a horrified expression on his face. “I know you are concerned for him, my King. But he is happy, after so long of discontent.” 

Hopefully she was right, hopefully she wasn’t just telling him that to calm his nerves. But he smiled at her anyway and thanked her, and escorted her from his chambers, taking a seat again behind his desk and beginning to go through the monthly reports.

Loki never complained of this part of his duties. He would wax poetic about how imbecilic the delegates and emissaries from other Realms were; how Thor, even in all of his Kingly wisdom, had chosen such morons for his advisors and his court; how, in only the privacy of their own bed, his face covered by shadows, Loki would shamefully admit to feeling as if he was still not good enough, as if he was an imposter, as if his position in Thor’s court was tenuous and based on luck and circumstance. 

Few things pained Thor more than his brother’s belief that Thor did not truly love him. He supposed he could not truly blame Loki, for all of Thor’s sins and past misdeeds, but he had done it from a place of love that was so thick and so desperate and so deep that it was most of what Thor could think about. He had not been like this, not before Loki’s final death, but losing his brother had broken something deep inside of him. 

The charges for the past month to Boda, the jewelry maker, were extensive. Loki continued to redesign the crown jewels, and have new things created, and Thor kept bringing back more and more gems. He made a note to authorize a separate expense account for Boda, that she could access when needed, as he assumed that Loki’s appetites would only grow. 

He continued on with approving the reports and the various other scrolls left for him, ranging from population accounts to new songs from the palace bards. It was busy work, that kept his mind mostly occupied, and by the time he was nearly done, a servant tapped on the door and asked him if he needed anything before she retired for the night.

Thor smiled at her and bade her to bed, looking out the window and seeing that it was well past dark. Loki had not returned as of yet, but Thor would give him another day or so before he gave into the worry that crowded at his mind. 

He made his way to his quarters, quickly eating the meal that had been left out for him before quickly readying himself for bed. It was strange, after all this time, being in an empty bed, but he managed. He was not a sympathetic character; he was not someone to be admired.

He slipped into a restless doze, and was only awakened a few hours later when Loki slipped into bed next to him. 

“Beloved,” Thor rasped, and he pushed Loki onto his back, one hand on his brother’s neck and the other in his hair. “You returned to me.”

Loki only gave him a look as if to say _What else did you expect?_ But then his brother was smiling at him and Thor knew that smile, knew the brilliance of it, and he smiled in return. 

“Midgard treated you well, then?”

“They were…kind,” Loki replied, looking up at him. Thor wanted to press him deep enough into the sheets that Loki could never leave him again. “I am unused to it,” he finally admitted, and he turned his head away from Thor. 

“They have no history of you other than you helping them save their world,” Thor reassured him, and he wanted to say so much more, say that Loki had nothing to be scared of, that he had truly been given a clean slate, that if anyone said anything against his brother that Thor would truly and completely destroy them with his bare hands. But he kept his words to himself; after all, it was his fault and his fault alone that they had to do this, that Loki had to live through so many things so many times over and over again. 

Thor had few regrets in his long life. He considered himself a man of action, a man that looked forward without much regard for the past. He would apologize for wrongs done to other people, other realms, and then he would move past it. Loki was the opposite, seeing slights where none were enacted upon him, hoarding them like the magpie he was. He would hold on to the smallest of grudges for years, decades even, and then pull them out in the midst of some argument and throw them at Thor and make them dig into him like barbs. 

One of his greatest regrets in life was raising Mjolnir to his brother, all those times before, but especially the time out on the ice. He had twisted time and stolen seidr and done the worst things he could ever imagine, and all of those centuries of trying and failing had not been worse than that single blow out in the cold. If he could take anything back…

Instead, he only held his brother close, and listened to Loki tell him of his time with the Avengers.

* * *

Life went back to normal for the next few months, after Midgard and after they had taken Algrim back to Svartalfheim and had made peace with their Queens. Heimdall continued to keep his gaze fixed upon Midgard, and sent Thor and Loki weekly reports of what the Avengers were doing. Loki had stopped the reports of what Stephen Strange was doing, finding the reminder to be too painful. 

There was still a worry in the back of his mind that it would all turn bad, that this was all a trick, that his brother was going to wake up one morning and raise Mjolnir to him again. He still had his escape plans, and now with the new freedom Thor had given him, he kept up a few safehouses in Asgard and other Realms. He still had his plans for revenge, but he had been busy with his duties...there was only so much he could do. He schemed and plotted and manipulated Thor into believing he was happy, and he spent hours in the library and also alone with his own books, researching and plotting and planning. Thor would feel how Loki had felt for so long, alone and betrayed and empty. 

Over the past year, however, Loki knew he had grown complacent. He was comfortable in his position, in his life. He knew none of it would last, and took pleasure in the time he was given. He enjoyed his job, and his duties, and he even took joy in his time on Midgard. Stark and Steve had requested that he come back to the Tower at least once per month while they were not directly under attack. Today was one of those days. He had just come back from nearly a week on Alfheim, working out a new import and export agreement for various crops and goods. He had spent the night before at his brother’s feet, Thor spoon feeding him a warm stew and braiding his hair. His seidr was quiet and content, his soul was uproarious, but he could calm himself. He was patient. 

Thor walked him to the Observatory, one hand on Loki’s lower back. Thor had to stay behind to go over the trade agreements that Loki had finalized with Alfheim. Loki had the authority to sign them himself, but he didn’t have the time. 

Pressing a hand to the back of Loki’s neck, Thor pulled him close, holding Loki so carefully in his arms. They stood together for a long moment, the hylli pulsing between them, before Thor stepped back and brushed Loki’s hair out of his face.

“Come back to me,” he ordered, and Loki smiled.

“Of course, my King,” he replied, and then turned to Heimdall.

The Bifrost cracked open, and Loki was gone from him.

Loki landed on the helipad on Stark Tower, smoothing out his clothes and his cape. He pulled his helmet out of a pocket dimension and settled it on his head, striding down and inside Stark’s penthouse. 

He was a bit early, and Stark was already waiting for him, a drink already poured. The man looked tired, but that wasn’t new.

Loki sipped at it, noting it was closer to his tastes, and he took the seat across from Stark, gently setting his helmet down on the bar next to him.

“Why do you wear that gaudy thing?”

“Why do you live in a tower with your name on it?” 

“Big and horny, eh?”

Loki only smirked. “The reasons are multifold. This is not the first design of my helmet, of course. But I needed something that would set me apart in battle, and also something that could be used as a weapon. I also modeled them after an old Asgardian legend, the Horned God. Now, the name?”

Stark finished his drink and glared at Loki. Loki smiled demurely back and caressed his helmet, his long fingers running the length of the horns. “My father spent so much of my life obsessed with our name, I suppose I did it to impress him. Make a dead man proud.”

Fascinating. Stark going stark bare in front of him. Loki wanted to pry deep into him, flay him open, root around his insides. Instead, he only smiled in what he knew was a nasty way, and turned his attention to Steve, who had just come through the elevator doors.

Steve greeted Stark with a nod and Loki with a murmur of his name, going past them to sit by himself in the conference room, picking up one of the tablets and tapping the screen. Loki exchanged a look with Stark and then followed his friend, taking the seat to Steve’s left and setting his helm in front of him on the long table.

“Captain,” Loki tried, and his friend barely looked at him, still focused on the tablet.

He was a patient man, able to wait out the most recalcitrant of foes, but he considered Steve a friend. So Loki spoke.

“Have you been to any other planets? I spent the past week on Alfheim, a Realm of light. It is powered by their sun, and their inhabitants surely look like nothing you have ever seen. Beyond light, it is a place of art and finery. Thor often brings back trinkets for me, when he has to visit other realms. He knows what would catch my eye.”

Steve seemed to calm out of whatever strange mood he was in, and he looked up at Loki from his tablet. “I keep having these dreams,” he finally said. “You’re in them. Everyone is in them. Even people I have never met. The things that happen, Loki….” He met Loki’s gaze. “I do not understand them.”

He was able to power through his shock and his fear and he only nodded. Before he could ask anything, Steve continued.

“The battle of New York goes so differently. _You_ are so different. But you come back, so many years later, and something has changed. Thor, my fellow soldier, my brother in arms, has changed.” Steve swung his head around and his eyes were hollow.

Loki reached out and touched Steve’s arm, and that seemed to shock the soldier out of it. He shook his head and scrubbed at his face. “They feel so real,” Steve whispered, and Loki patted his arm. 

“There are infinite timelines and infinite universes,” he finally offered, once it seemed Steve had calmed down. It took everything in his power not to ask about Stephen, if his friend had seen the face of Loki’s lover and could recognize him. “I read a book, a very long time ago, about a study done between an Asgardian and her Midgardian friend. While Midgardians such as yourself cannot natively wield seidr, you can connect with it. Its rare, beyond rare. But it can happen.” It was a lie, of course, but Steve did not know him nearly well enough to be able to tell.

“You’re doing this to me?”

Loki flinched away and dug his nails into the meat of his left palm. “Unintentionally, I mean.” 

Steve’s harsh gaze softened. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I barely dream as it is. Is there any way to stop it?”

He thought over it for a moment and then nodded. “I should be able to manage something. But you would have to trust me.”

“Of course I trust you, Loki. You’re my friend.”

“After the conference, then,” Loki replied, wondering if he was blushing. Even after his dreams, after seeing the truth of it all, Steve was still his friend. In this time and the next, friends.

Stark came in and gave Steve a concerned look, but he didn’t say anything. He picked up one of the tablets and tapped at it, and the screens behind him lit up with pictures of prototype Iron Man costumes. It had been something that had taken over the man in the time since Algrim had attempted his invasion. He was obsessed with creating a better machine, creating a better suit, just _being_ better.

Loki had no interest in his mechanics or whatever Stark was dealing with. The room slowly filled with the rest of the Avengers, and none took the seat to Loki’s left. 

Stark began the meeting with an update of his newest prototype Iron Man suit, and Banner and the Widow looked thoroughly concerned. Banner tried to talk to Stark, but Stark waved him off and began talking about a criminal named the Mandarin who had set off a few bombs. Stark mentioned he had had a meeting with someone named Rhodey, who had given him information about the bombings. 

“Are we to stop him?” the Widow asked, flicking a pen between her hands. 

“My intelligence indicates he’s connected with Advanced Idea Mechanics, a scientific agency run by Aldrich Killian. Last I heard, they’re working on gene therapy to regenerate damaged tissue. Run of the mill stuff.” Stark made eye contact with the Widow. “So, yes, Spidey, we’re going after him. Good thing we have a couple of master assassins, a super-soldier, the green guy, and a God, eh?”

They spent the rest of the conference going over Stark’s intelligence on the Mandarin, over what he knew about AIM and Killian. Steve was quieter than usual, and Loki did not know Midgard or its sciences well enough to feel as if he was of any help, and he began to wonder what he was doing there. But they had offered him a seat at the table, and he would take it until he was told to leave.

He and Steve stayed behind as the Avengers eventually filed out of the conference room, Banner worriedly trying to figure out what had Stark twisted up so tightly.

“How’d you want to do this?” Steve finally asked, and he reached out for Loki’s helmet, taking it in his hand. He hefted it up and muttered, “Not bad.”

Loki merely reached out and took Steve’s head in his hand, pressing his thumb to the space between Steve’s eyes.

The past rushed before him—

Loki, beyond mad with hate and power and Thanos just a few steps behind him, demanding that Steve kneel before him—

_There are always men like you—_

Thor, such a bright spot in Steve’s long life—

_You want me to put the hammer down?_

Thor, again, back to back with Steve as they are fighting for their very lives in the middle of New York City—

A train. There is a train.

The world is ice. Everything important to him is taken away by the ice—

He sees Loki in the prison in the Helicarrier, and Natasha comes back to tell him of Loki’s plans—

_On your left—_

Thor stands before him, furious at Steve’s cruel words about Loki, always the big brother, always protective of what’s his—

Thor’s hand on Loki’s neck, Thor pushing Loki to his knees, pushing Loki’s face to the floor, Loki never fighting—

Stephen.

_Stephen._

For a moment, Steve’s mind let Loki see his and Stephen’s relationship from another perspective. He saw the love on his face, mirrored only by his lover. He saw the fury from both Steve and Stephen of Thor’s treatment of him, saw how cruel and unkind Thor seemed to them, their confusion at his acceptance, even his defense of his brother.

Stephen, one last time, his hand in Loki’s, the two of them leaning together on the couch, Steve coming to tell them that dinner was ready—

And then—

And then—

Loki again, beyond mad, almost unrecognizable, even to himself.

Steve, even in all his righteous rage, feeling pity for this tormented creature before him.

Loki stepped out of Steve’s mind and the two of them gasped together, Steve’s hand reaching out and the two of them just spent that moment together, before Loki squeezed Steve’s hand before pulling his away. 

“Was that real?” Steve turned to look at him, and for one of the only times in his life, Loki did not know what to say.

“In another life,” he finally managed. “I am not that man.”

Steve leaned closer to him, and he wrapped his arm around Loki’s shoulders and pulled him closer. It was strange, to be held by someone other than Thor. Steve was strong, but he was still human. Cautiously, Loki rested his head on Steve’s shoulder. He wondered if Thor could tell that someone was touching him. He wondered how mad his brother would be. He smiled briefly at the thought.

“Of course you aren’t him,” Steve finally said, and his breath was hot. “I’ve never had someone in my head before.”

“I would assume so,” Loki mused. “It’s a very unique feeling, the sensation that your body is not your own, or that your own innards do not belong to you.”

“When they injected me, I was really nothing more than a sickly art student who just wanted to help. I woke up in a body that was not my own. I grew nearly a foot, weighed over twice as much as I had before. It took me months to figure everything out. Sometimes I feel as if I still don’t know who’s in the mirror. I’m still that skinny kid just trying to do what’s right.” Steve leaned back but kept his hand on Loki’s shoulder, fingers resting over the collar of Loki’s tunic so that they were skin to skin. His eyes dropped to Loki’s neck. “He struck you with lightning.”

Loki showed his teeth and hoped it looked like a smile. “He wanted everyone to know I was his.” His gaze dropped to his helmet and he let out a long sigh. “None of that happened, I hope you know. Dreams or not, that timeline is not this one.”

“It’s just magic?”

He flicked his fingers and the tension seeped out of Steve’s body. “I cast a soothing spell on you. Whatever seidr of mine that has attached itself to you should fade away, and I doubt you will have any more dreams. If you do…” He reached forward and pressed his index finger to Steve’s forehead. “Call for Heimdall. He will send you a raven.”

“A raven?” Steve smiled, and he helped Loki to his feet, tossing Loki’s helmet up and catching it a few times as he followed Loki out of the conference room.

“Yes, a raven, how does your species communicate? I see other humans staring down at those rectangles, but no one has let me see one.”

“Those are phones,” Steve told him, and Loki went to Stark’s bar, rummaging through the bottles until he found a bottle of wine that looked expensive. 

“Phone?” 

Steve did his best to explain, and he had a decent handle on text messaging and the internet, but it was harder to explain it to Loki, who didn’t even know what a telephone call was.

Loki finally waved him off and shook his head. “It sounds boring. Just send a raven.”

“How am I supposed to send a message with a bird?”

Rolling his eyes, Loki went to the doors to the helipad and held out his arm. It only took a moment, and then a raven flew down from the heavens and landed upon his hand. He brought it to Steve, who took the bird with awe and surprise.

“It’s that simple?”

“I doubt you could catch _any_ bird,” Loki replied mockingly, looking simultaneously haughty and amused. “But it works for Asgardian ravens. The myth is that Odin enchanted them long ago, and that he uses them to spy, so that he always knows what happens in every Realm. He denied it when I asked, of course, but I find some truth to it. But we use them as a means of communication now.” He waved imperiously at the raven in Steve’s hand, taking another sip of his wine. “Try it for yourself.”

“Just tell it something?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Tell it who your message is for, and what you wish to say to them. And then go put it outside.”

Steve leaned in close and whispered to the raven, and then opened the door. The raven flew up, and up, and up, and then soared back down, flying back inside and landing on Loki’s shoulder. It’s beak opened, and Steve’s voice came out, “Does this really work? I’m going to try your helmet on.” The raven flew back outside and Steve came closer, picking Loki’s helmet up and sliding it on his head.

“It suits you far better than that costume you wear, my friend,” Loki told Steve, who grinned at him and yanked the helmet off.

“Your head is far smaller than mine,” Steve commented, tossing the helmet back.

“A large head is a sign of a boorish mind,” Loki told him, and he slipped his helmet on, settling it into place and finishing his glass of wine.

“I have a feeling you used to tell yourself that when Thor would piss you off,” Steve noted, and his face was soft, and kind, and his voice was gentle. He was such an odd man, Steve Rogers. He was kind to Loki when he didn’t deserve it, kind to Loki even when he saw what Loki had done.

“I apologize for my hasty exit, but I must be getting home.” It was only habit at the point, from all the times he had left Thor in Asgard, but Loki held out his hand. 

Steve came close and took it, and perhaps whatever leftover seidr that was left in him from their brief connection caused him to lift Loki’s hand to his mouth and kiss it.

To his surprise, Steve didn’t bluster an apology or run off. He merely blinked and then shrugged, and Loki waved it off, saying, “I’m glad at least one man in this Realm still seems to have manners,” and he took his leave.

Asgard was calling.

Heimdall brought him home, into Thor’s arms, peace at last.

He told Thor he would have to return to Midgard soon, but that he was home for the time being, back in his place, at his King’s side, at his King’s feet.

* * *

Loki landed in the Observatory, smoothing down his clothes and the fur of the great bear that Thor had slain for him. He had just finished delivering the signed trade agreements, and he healed the prick on his finger with barely a thought. He had been in Alfheim for most of the day, and he would be returning to Midgard in the morning. Thor was quietly unhappy about Loki’s absences, but he could not stay, not when he had duties.

He would have spent his entire life at Thor’s feet, if Thor had only given him that time. But this was as much of a punishment for Thor as it was freedom for Loki. 

He had _friends_ now. After so many lives of being on the sidelines of Thor’s life, of wanting to fit in with a world that had no place for someone like him, he now had friends.

Thor did not greet him in the Observatory, but Loki had not expected him to. He set his helmet into a pocket dimension and changed his formal garb for looser, more comfortable clothing, and after nodding in acknowledgement at Heimdall, he made his way up to the palace.

Thor was in their quarters, reading a book about the history of politics between Vanaheim and Musphelheim, something that even Loki found dry and boring. But that was the life of a King.

There was a small pillow at Thor’s feet, and Loki stripped down to his linens before kneeling on it, leaning his weight against Thor’s legs. Strong fingers pet through his hair, and Thor handed him a plate filled with various delicacies.

“Did they treat you well?” Thor finally asked, picking up a brush. He put down his book and began brushing Loki’s hair, the ache in Loki’s chest finally easing. 

“They were as courteous as always,” Loki replied, picking through the food on his plate. It was all good, spiced meat and warm bread, but his stomach was tight. “They spilt more blood on the agreement than I did. They finished building our visiting quarters, and I feel as if you would approve. Heavy curtains, gold, none of their usual over-the-top light nonsense. They gave me a present.”

He waved his hand and a bundle of cloth came floating over. Thor unwrapped it, and then handed it to Loki.

It was a few Alfheim jewels, all beams of light and hard diamond shine. Something about the molecular structure of the gems made them very easy to enchant with listening or recording spells, which meant that they were generally viewed with revulsion in Asgard. It was arguably a slight to give someone of Loki’s stature and influence such gems, but the Alfar could claim ignorance. A very difficult line for Loki to walk.

They sat in the quiet of their companionship for some time before Loki set aside his empty plate and said, “You have been detached and reserved as of late, my King. You have not come to me with what ails you.”

Thor stayed quiet for a long while, leaning back and watching his brother’s profile in the firelight. Finally, as Loki was accepting that Thor wouldn’t be telling him anything and that sleep was a better option, Thor cleared his throat. 

“I worry. I am on uncertain ground here, and it is very clear to me that this is our last attempt at defeating Thanos. I know that you hold no affection towards what I have done to bring us here, brother, but I will maintain that it was necessary until the end of my days. I feel…unmoored. Untethered.” Keeping his head turned to the fire, Loki smiled briefly.

“This is all you’ve ever wanted, yes? For us to rule together? To defend Midgard? Is there something else to be done?”

Thor let out a trembling sigh and tugged at Loki until his brother joined him on the lounge. He took Loki’s hand in both of his own and looked deep into his brother’s eyes. Loki smirked and looked back.

“This is it. I have lived for the past thousand attempts at this great feat, always knowing there was a second chance. I no longer have that. I cannot try again, I cannot lose again, there will be only this until the end of days.” Thor freed one of his hands to scrub at his eyes. “I will die before I lose you again.”

“I happen to be remarkably difficult to kill,” Loki offered.

Something dark and deep welled up in Thor’s gaze, and he lifted one hand to press to Loki’s chest, the other on his neck. The hylli hummed and twisted and Loki gasped, Thor’s hands going white hot, and something deep inside Loki, whatever in him that had felt broken and out of place for so long, slid complete. 

Thor had given him back the seidr he had stolen. 

Thor pressed Loki back onto the couch, a great and terrible creature above him, his eyes and hands and arms bright with lightning, and Thor boomed, “Your King demands it.”

As always, Loki smiled in the face of grave danger, and promised his King that he would live.

* * *

Most of the Avengers had already gathered in Stark’s penthouse when Loki arrived. He had seen in the mirror that morning that Thor’s seidr had marked him, yet again, with bright red handprints on his neck and chest. They seemed to be fading, but no spell or potion sped the process. 

He entered the penthouse and tossed Stark a small bag. “These are jewels from Alfheim.” Stark opened the bag and Loki rolled his eyes at everyone’s apparent awe at the ugly things. The room grew brighter with their light, and Stark lifted one high into the air, making some joke about a wizard. “Our scientists have used them in ships, for lighting up screens, if I understand correctly. They are also used in certain potions, and for channeling seidr. Even ugly things have a use, I’m told.” He had already enchanted them as listening devices.

“Ugly?” Stark repeated, tossing one of the gems from hand to hand. He poured out the bag onto the table in front of him and boggled down at them. The light from the jewels illuminated his entire face and the room beyond him. A few of the other Avengers snatched up a few of the jewels, holding cloth over them or apparently trying to do some manner of strange experiments on if they still stayed lit in various substances. 

“Yes, they are very ugly. I finished brokering an agreement with Alfheim only a few days ago and part of their custom is to always give me a bag of the nasty things. It is well known through the Nine Realms that I have a penchant for jewels and jewelry. I usually give them to our most talented jewelry maker, but she is in the middle of redesigning almost 30 pieces of jewelry for me, and I assumed she was not looking for more work.”

Stark suddenly grinned at him. “So you thought of your old pal Tony.”

Loki merely raised an eyebrow at the man. “No, I merely have no use for garbage and considered your realm a disposal site for it.”

Stark only kept grinning at him and he and Banner were immediately huddling over the gems, Loki going to take the seat on the couch next to Steve. Steve pulled off Loki’s helmet and dropped it on the table in front of them, slinging his arm across the back of the couch. “Where’s Alfheim?”

“It is part of Yggdrasil, the world tree. There are nine spiral galaxies residing upon it, with Asgard on the topmost branches, Midgard in the middle, and Helheim down in the roots. Alfheim is out on a long branch, bathed in sunlight.” Loki threw another disgusted glance at the jewels that Stark and Banner were still exclaiming over. “The Alfar, or the elves, reside there. It is a realm of light and art and beauty.”

Steve smiled at him. “I assume you can’t stand it there.”

“It’s horrible.” Loki dramatically shuddered. 

“What’s your favorite realm?” 

Loki tipped his head over to look at Steve. “I do not believe I have any easy answer to that question, Captain. I have enemies on nearly every realm.”

“Really?” Steve interrupted, frowning at him. “What would you have done—”

“God of mischief, remember?” Loki smiled nastily at him. “I grow bored easily,” he offered, and gave an elegant shrug. “I have always been good at hiding in the shadows and using what I overhear to my advantage.”

Steve gave him a searching look. “I’ll be sure to use that to our advantage then,” he began, but was interrupted by a loud crash as the windows exploded inward. 

The room was flooded by a swarm of drones, the Avengers all springing into action, and Loki sent up a seidr shield as he surged to his feet, flicking knives and blasts and whips of seidr and ducking his head as Barton jumped onto the couch behind him, shooting arrow after arrow into the advancing drones. Stark yelled something about his windows and he summoned an Iron Man suit as he simultaneously kicked the Alfheim gems in a cabinet. Steve swarmed into the fray, all fists and throwing whatever he could get his hands on, and behind him, Banner roared as he transformed.

It took Loki only a few frantic minutes of fighting to realize that the drones were focused on him. He fought off as many as he could, but they were overwhelming, and they were powerful enough to bash through his shields and this body was still so _weak_ and he was panting and sweating and suddenly, one of the drones arched high above him and sunk a needle into his neck.

He gasped and looked desperately for someone to help him as the drones swarmed over him. The last thing he saw before it all went black was the Beast, furious and green, smashing a drone into the ground in the same way he had done to Loki all those lifetimes ago. He was still afraid—


	5. CH5

Steve was panting. He grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the faucet, looking back up at himself in the bathroom mirror. He had ducked in here after the chaos, after everyone had been accounted for besides Loki. All of his wounds from the battle were superficial, and had already healed, leaving dried blood on his face and arms. He just needed a minute. Just one minute.

He ran the washcloth over his face and down his neck, cleaning off the blood and sweat. He could hear Stark ranting about whatever already, and wiped his face off again, shaking his head.

Steve met Captain America’s gaze in the mirror. They were two parts of the same whole. He still sometimes thought of Steve as the ninety-pound asthmatic and Captain America as the man after the serum.

He took a deep breath, and then another, and another. He had fought beside Loki before, and had seen how frightfully powerful the god was, and the image of his friend being overtaken and swallowed up by the horde of AIM drones was not something he would soon forget.

Steve left the bathroom, and stopped himself from rolling his eyes at Stark’s ramblings. He grit his teeth.

“We don’t even know him!” Stark cried. Everyone was barely paying attention to him as they picked up the detritus and patched each other up. “He’s supposed to be some god of lies! How do we know those so-called jewels aren’t some kind of homing beacon for AIM? Why did we even believe him about that Thanos crap?”

“Shut the hell up, Tony,” Steve said, and he couldn’t keep the tiredness out of his voice. 

“Language, Cap!” Stark shot back, scandalized. Banner, who was back to himself and wearing some robe that Steve assumed didn’t belong to him, snorted and rolled his eyes. 

“All Loki has done has help us,” Steve argued, brow furrowing. “We don’t even know if any of those myths are true, and anyway, I would figure you would be the biggest proponent of not letting someone’s past mistakes define their future.”

Stark literally took a step back, and he briefly touched the arc reactor in his chest. “Cap,” he tried, but Steve shook his head.

“He’s one of us, and _your_ enemy, Tony, took him. It’s our responsibility to get him back.” He sighed and rubbed at his temples for a brief moment. “I’m going to go call Thor.”

“Thor?” Natasha repeated, and Steve could hear the wariness in her voice. Steve just nodded, and went to the closest broken window.

He looked up at the clouds and called for Heimdall. It was possibly the longest minute of his life as he glanced back and saw the confusion on his team’s faces before a raven winged down from the sky and landed on his outstretched hand.

Steve pet the bird’s head and pulled it close, murmuring, “Tell Thor: please come to Earth. Loki has been taken.” The raven took flight and Steve turned back to see Stark picking his jaw off the floor.

“A bird, huh,” Stark muttered. 

“That a raven?” Barton asked, sidling closer. He looked pale, sickly almost, and Steve shot him a curious look.

“Apparently Asgard uses them as a form of communication,” Steve replied with a shrug. “Loki made some spell that they’ll come to me if I ask.” 

“Did he now,” Stark muttered, but whatever snotty comment he was going to make was outshadowed by a great roar of thunder as Thor tore through the sky and landed with a massive boom on the helipad. Stark groaned about more damage he would have to pay for as the windows trembled.

“Loki!” Thor bellowed, and he stormed in, lightning shooting up and down his arms and causing his eyes to glow. The room filled with static electricity and his very presence felt like an oncoming storm. “Where is my brother?”

Steve was the first to move closer, as Natasha moved as far away from Thor as she could manage while still staying in the room, and Banner just took the closest seat. Steve glanced around his team and realized Barton was gone. “We don’t know,” Steve told him, and Thor lifted Mjolnir. Steve raised his hands and shot Stark a dark look when the billionaire tried to do his version of placating, which was generally more needling than anything. “Stark made an enemy that’s been bombing various places around the country. We don’t know yet why they took Loki, or where he is.”

Thor lowered Mjolnir and the storm surrounding him lessened. He paced frantically in front of them before looking around them. “None of you seem grievously injured,” he noted, and Steve nodded slowly, following Thor’s gaze.

“I think they were here only for Loki,” he finally admitted, and the sky darkened immediately. “Hey, calm down, pal. I don’t think getting mad will get him back any sooner.”

“It will make me feel better,” Thor growled, but he set Mjolnir down and shook out his hands, giving Steve a sharp nod. “Tell me about this enemy, Stark.”

Stark outlined what they knew of the Mandarin and Aldrich Killian. Thor grew angrier and angrier but managed to stay calm enough to think rationally. Once Stark was done, Thor slowly looked between each Avenger and took a deep breath. 

“What are you going to do to get my brother back?” he asked, and his voice was quiet and dangerous. 

“We don’t know why he was taken in the first place,” Stark said, and he came around the bar to stand closer to Thor. Something caught Thor’s eye and he pushed past Stark to yank open a cabinet, pulling out the small bag that held the Alfheim jewels.

Thor laughed and shook his head, carelessly tossing the jewels down onto the bar. “My brother was never fond of Alfheim or their attempts to gain his favor,” he chuckled, and turned back to the Avengers. Seeing the jewels seemed to have quieted his nerves and the pressure in the room from his powers finally lifted. “I can supply the Avengers with as many Einherjar as needed to rescue my brother. If this Killian is as obsessed with curing his disabilities as you say, I fear he may have taken Loki for research purposes. My brother is not well known on your realm, but Earth does know of me, and Loki is my brother.” He paced back and forth for a few moments and then looked up and met Steve’s gaze. “You will bring him back to me.”

“Why hasn’t he called for you?” Steve asked. “Surely you could find him.”

Thor shook his head. “Either he is incapacitated entirely or he is unable to speak. It is not an uncommon occurrence when Loki is taken captive.”

“How often has your brother been kidnapped?” Stark asked, and Steve rolled his eyes and dropped down onto the couch. He looked down and picked Loki’s helmet up from the rubble of the table.

“Often enough,” Thor barked back, and he looked down at Loki’s helm in Steve’s hands. “I will bring a seidrmadr trained in the art of—”

“We don’t need any of that,” Natasha interrupted, and she came further into the room. Thor frowned at her. “Our latest intelligence indicates Killian is working on a project called Extremis. It is a compound that, when successful, gives the user regenerative healing abilities and other superhuman abilities.” She threw Steve a look. 

“You think they took my brother because of this Extremis?” 

“Loki can do all of that and more,” Natasha replied, and Thor bared his teeth, pacing furiously around the room. 

“If he hurts my brother I will tear him apart!” Thor yelled, and Mjolnir surged across the room into his hand. Steve dropped Loki’s helmet and pushed to his feet. 

“Thor,” he tried, and the god turned on him. “We have to find him first.”

Thor’s dark gaze settled on Stark, who audibly swallowed. “Find him, Man of Iron. You have the most resources out of anyone in this realm, and it is _your_ enemy that took my brother. Or I tear this building down.”

“Could you?” Stark apparently couldn’t keep the greediness off his face, and Steve rolled his eyes. 

Thor only glared at him, and after a moment, Stark put his hands up and pulled Banner out of the room. Natasha and Barton looked between Steve and Thor before following them, and Steve dropped back onto the couch, Thor tossing Mjolnir up in the air as he paced in front of Steve.

“We’re going to get him back,” Steve offered. “I don’t leave anyone behind.”

“I believe you, Steven,” Thor assured him. “But I am worried for my brother.”

“Loki is my friend,” Steve told him, and Thor slowed to a stop, turning to look curiously at Steve. “We’ll get him back in one piece.”

Thor dropped back on the couch next to Steve and picked up Loki’s helmet in one hand. “I fear for him, Steven,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “My brother has suffered greatly in his life.” Steve remembered those dreams of his, of sitting in some strange library and listening to Loki quietly describe what he had suffered under Thanos’s hand, of what tortures he had survived through his long life. He remembered Loki assuring him it was a dream, an effect of being friends with an alien.

Suddenly, looking at Thor, Steve wasn’t so sure of that. But he kept quiet on that, instead giving Thor a quiet apology. “I realized too late they were here for him. I should’ve been faster.” Still not fast enough, not quick enough, not good enough. He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes, suddenly exhausted.

A heavy hand, strong with calluses, landed on Steve’s neck, and he jerked back in surprise before looking up to see Thor’s solemn face peering down at him. “I do not place any blame on you, Steven,” Thor informed him. “You carry too heavy a burden if you believe you could have stopped them. I do not blame anyone for this besides the man that took my brother.” He removed his hand from Steve’s neck after squeezing it and then he pushed to his feet, tossing Loki’s helmet up into the air.

“It is strange my brother would leave this behind. He can summon it from almost any distance and is rarely without it,” Thor mused, and he looked it over with a frown. Lightning crackled over his hand as he ran it over the helmet, but Steve couldn’t see what Thor was looking for. 

Sharp mismatched eyes landed on Steve. “Where is Stark?”

Steve led him to Stark’s lab, and Thor shoved Loki’s helmet into Stark’s hands, speaking over his protests. “What sort of scanning powers does your machinery have, Stark? See if Loki left a spell on his helmet so that he can be found.” He suddenly stiffened.

Thor ignored Stark’s adamant objections that he didn’t have the technology to find _magic_ as he turned back to Steve with a crestfallen look on his face. “I have been shown a fool,” Thor told him, and he pulled Steve out of the lab without a word of explanation to anyone else. “Show me to a safe place.”

Steve shrugged and led Thor to the elevator, taking them back up to the floor his apartment was on. Thor didn’t look around at his bare quarters and only collapsed on the couch, holding his head in his hands.

“Do you need something?” Steve tried, but Thor only shook his head. Steve got himself a glass of water and took a seat in the armchair kitty-corner from the couch. 

“My brother and I are bound,” Thor told him, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands while looking fervently at Steve, who only motioned for him to continue. “When we were young, I bound myself to him in a seidrmadr-anchor bond. It is a very ancient ritual, and it bound our souls together. We were soul-bound before that, being destined to be together for our long lives, but that was the beginning.” Thor looked away from him, his gaze going distant and unfocused.

“Many things happened over the years to tighten the bond between us. Just over a year ago, I was crowned King of Asgard. I took Loki as my Regent, along with my Emissary and highest advisor. It was a three-fold ritual that bound many parts of him to me. His life is tied tighter to mine than ever before.”

Steve decided to drop all pretense. “I have dreams,” he told Thor, whose gaze shot quickly back to him. “I remember what you did to him. You struck him with lightning, you nearly killed him. I remember you treating him like shit. It’s all hidden behind mist and he tried to convince me it was all a side-effect of being friends with someone so magically powerful, but I see the truth now. So why would Loki, who you’ve clearly treated no better than a whipped dog, tie himself even tighter to you?”

Thor didn’t even look apologetic. He took Steve’s admission in stride. “Loki belongs to me. If you remember our past timeline together, then you know that Loki has accepted his place in life. He enjoys it. It brings him peace. But that isn’t important.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Not now. What is important is the last bonding we did. It is called the hylli. It is a loyalty spell.” Thor shut his eyes. “I have not had to call upon it in the past year, not like this. But if I concentrate, it will lead me to him.”

Thor took a deep breath and lightning sparked over his hands. Steve sat back as Thor tried to work whatever magic it was—suddenly, a warm breeze swept through the room, as strange as that was. Then, gold sparks shot off from Thor’s hands, and he gasped, shooting to his feet.

Lightning-covered eyes shot to Steve. “I can find him,” Thor promised, and Steve followed.

* * *

His eyes opened to darkness. There was nothing around him, only pitch black.

For a moment, he wondered if he was dead again.

But then, pain.

He was naked, sitting upright in a cold metal chair, and he could feel metal around his ankles and chest and waist and ankles and neck. He swallowed through a dry throat, and could feel his throat flex against the collar. 

He tried to take a deep breath, but the band around his chest did not allow it.

He flicked his fingers to gather his seidr and escape, but he let out a small cry of pain as agony lanced through his wrists and fingers. He tried to blink away the darkness to see, but it was so dark, so suffocating, so alone. The small amount he was capable of moving his arms and wrists gave sharp awareness that there were metal rods driven through the fine bones of his wrists, pinning him to the chair.

Even if he could not move his hands, he could still say a spell, call for his brother, just _get out somehow._

Yet his mouth refused to move. He tried to lick his lips, but his tongue was blocked—his eyes widened in both fear and rage when he realized he was muzzled, a gag between his teeth. More metal. _Who had done this?_

Nothing in the room moved or made a sound for a very long time. He could hear the ever-increasing beat of his own heart, his own frantic breaths, but there was nothing else. He could not move, he could not escape. 

The room was not cold or warm, the darkness was so absolute that he could often not tell if his eyes were open or closed, and very, very slowly, he became aware that the bands around his chest and waist were heating up. It was very gradual, and every movement away from the bands only increased his panic, and any panic would cause him to move his hands and then he would scream into the muzzle and it was not so hot to be painful but it was uncomfortable and—

A noise.

Very faint, very far away.

It was the sound of metal rasping against metal, and Loki stiffened as the heat bled away from the bands around his chest. Cold replaced the heat, but he could deal with that better. His heart felt as if it would pound out of his chest.

Another noise, a small footstep.

And then, from the darkness, a voice.

“Hello.

“I am Aldrich Killian.”

Long fingers pet through his hair and Loki jerked back, yanking his head around in the blackness. If he had the use of his mouth, he would bite off the fingers that dared to touch him. He would rip this insignificant human into _pieces._

The band around his stomach quickly warmed, this time far beyond discomfort, this time straight into searing pain. He could smell his own skin burning. What manner of seidr was this, to injure his skin so severely? What type of man was this? What technology did he have that was able to restrain a god?

Loki was going to tear him apart.

He grunted through the pain and bit down on the gag in his mouth. 

“I have been working on something very important for a very long time. I thought I had solved it, had perfected it, but then I heard about a god that had come to us. I saw you on the news, you know. So arrogant, so beautiful, and I knew. I knew you were my solution.”

There was still only darkness around him, and Loki could still not see, but he could hear Killian moving around, small sounds of metal tapping against metal, rustling clothes.

Thor would find him. Steve would find him. 

He was able to fold one of his hands into a fist; his skin had healed around the thin post in his wrist. This—this _man_ had thought he could contain him, contain a god, but he knew nothing, he could not—

He let out a grunt of pain as every single metal band heated up simultaneously, and then the chair began to vibrate, and a great lancing shock burst through him, worse than anything he had felt before, and he could not move away from it, he was _prisoner_ , he would die here. His arms and legs trembled and the pins through his wrists let out a small shock of their own, and his arms seized, and he could not even move.

The heat and the pain faded, and he could hear himself panting into the gag and the muzzle. He noticed light at the edge of his vision, and then he blinked a few times, the room suddenly appearing around him.

Killian was so _plain_ looking. Pale, greying hair, a well-fit grey suit. Loki could barely stand the sight of him. Loki could see right where in his neck where he was going to rip his throat out.

He narrowed his eyes at the man and then glanced around the room. Only a few feet in front of him was a robotic arm, with long needles and scalpels for fingers. Killian clicked his fingers and the robot moved forward.

The bands tightened and he gasped for air.

Killian clicked his fingers again and another robot came forward, pushing a chair. He took a seat and crossed his legs, clasping his hands over his knee. He watched as the robot rolled forward and pressed the scalpel into Loki’s forearm.

This body of his was so _weak,_ it had no defenses built up, no real history with pain, and Loki gasped immediately, then bit down harshly on the gag, grinding his teeth into the metal. He strained against the bands, which began to slowly heat up, agonizing against the burns that were beginning to heal.

The second robot came forward and collected some of his blood in a small vial.

“My...subjects have been having adverse reactions to my solution,” Killian informed him. “I understand that your species has advanced healing. I intend to see how you respond.”

Loki’s eyes widened against his will and then he glared at the man. How _dare_ he.

The robot collected a few more vials of blood and then placed them on a small tray off to the side. Killian picked one up and held it up to the light. The robot with the scalpel moved away and the bands holding Loki to the chair slowly cooled down. He strained against them but the metal did not even creak. Any movement pulled on the pins through his wrists and he knew that if they were not there, he could rip right through the bindings. He was considering just taking the damage when Killian spoke again.

“How interesting,” the man murmured, and Loki looked to see that he had put the vial down and was watching the cut on Loki’s arm. Loki glanced down at it and they both watched as his skin slowly stitched itself together. He was healing particularly slowly; his body was weakened by pain already, and the burns on his chest and legs and arms were clearly taking up the most of his seidr. He tried to twitch his fingers to gather his seidr again, but the pain of his wrist grating against the pin inside of it caused his brain to white out. 

Killian pushed to his feet. “I will return soon.” The robots moved back and powered down.

Killian swept out of the room and Loki was plunged into darkness.

The absolute darkness was worse than the pain. He could deal with pain; after all, it always ended. But he could not comprehend absolute darkness. There was no way to orient himself, nothing to convince his mind he was not yet again in the long great fall from the Bifrost. The room was temperate, and the metal of the bindings and the chair were the exact temperature of his body. The only way to orient himself was the pins through his wrists, and his arms trembled as he tried not to pull on them. It was just so _dark._

Loki moaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

Very far off in the distance, however many hours later, he heard a great roar in the distance.

* * *

Mjolnir crushed every robot that had touched his brother, Thor made certain of it. He had already killed the men who had been watching from another room, and he had hoped that Killian was among them. There were two men in strange white coats, and another in a grey suit. But crushing the robots brought him the greatest satisfaction, and once they were all dust, he dropped Mjolnir and went to his brother.

He tore the metal bindings that tethered Loki to the chair, and he pulled the metal muzzle from his beloved brother’s face, gasping out Loki’s name. There were pins through Loki’s wrists and as he pulled away the bindings, the pins sunk back into the arms of the chair, leaving wounds in Loki’s wrists that seeped blood.

Green eyes fluttered open and Loki murmured his name, a ruined, bloody hand shakily rising to rest on Thor’s arm. Behind them, Steve’s form filled the doorway, and he took a step towards them before stopping himself. 

“You came,” Loki rasped, his voice as rough as gravel. Thor cradled his beloved’s head in both of his hands and held in his sob. 

“I will kill whoever did this,” Thor swore, and he made sure all of the metal was out of Loki’s body before pulling his brother into his arms, using his seidr to heal him as best as he could.

“He wore grey,” Loki growled. “I will tear his throat out.”

From the doorway, and behind Steve, Stark informed them that Killian was already dead, and that they had nothing to worry about. He ducked into the room and crouched next to the robots that Thor had destroyed. Loki threw Stark a furious look. He wanted to kill the disgusting human himself. “What I could gather of his research was that he thought Loki could help his science advance in molecular restablization and regeneration. His preliminary experiments were exploding because their bodies couldn’t accept the formula. I think he was going to test it on Loki next.”

Loki shakily nodded and then lifted his hand from Thor’s arm to point at the table holding the vials of blood that had been taken from him. “Destroy those.”

Thor merely waved a hand and the tubes were destroyed in a bolt of lightning.

Steve watched as Stark managed to grab a tube of Loki’s blood before they were all destroyed, but his attention was diverted by Thor declaring he was going to take Loki back to Asgard before he could say anything. The two brothers were gone in a flash of rainbow light and Steve turned on Stark, demanding that he destroy the blood, but Stark only played dumb and wandered away from him.

Selfish and as cruel as ever, Steve thought, making his way out of the ruined mess of the compound. Never a thought to anyone other than himself. 

If he didn’t have to work with Stark to keep the Avengers together, Steve wouldn’t even be able to stomach being in the same room as the man.

The Avengers all went their separate ways, Steve, Stark, and Banner returning to Stark Tower. He tried again to get Stark to destroy the sample of Loki’s blood that he had taken, but Stark said he didn’t know what Steve was talking about. Killian’s base was only a few hours flight away, and the Quinjet was faster than any other kind of transportation. Steve decided that any report to SHIELD could wait until the morning, and he slowly pulled off his uniform, deep in thought, before putting himself to bed, willing himself not to dream.

* * *

The healing sleep of the Aesir healers allowed Loki to wake into peacefulness. He detested the healing wing but at least the healers worked quickly enough so that he did not have to wake into pain. He breathed a bit easier when he was able to move his wrists without shooting pains up his forearms and without his bones grinding against one another.

He had expected Thor to be there when he woke, but Loki was alone. He knew his brother had duties, as he was King, but still…he burrowed down deep inside himself to find his seidr, burning bright and barely controlled as always. It was a bit weaker than normal, but that was merely due to the strain of healing himself. It was a relief to be able to access it, and he danced a bit of it along his skin before pulling it away. The hylli was still intact, which meant that Thor still trusted him, and that Thor was also alive. Even as he detested it, he took comfort in the familiar bond. 

Stupid him, for being kidnapped at all. He supposed it could not have been stopped, but he still felt like every manner of moron for it. A brief respite was that he had lived through it, lived long enough to be rescued. Too stubborn to give up and die. 

Eir, the royal healer, bustled into the room, and her long face showed no surprise that he had awoken. “I will summon the King,” she merely told him, and waved a cloud of gold seidr over him, checking to see how well he had healed. Given that he was awake, Loki assumed his healing was nearly complete. 

She left him in silence and Loki struggled to sit up, leaning back against the comfortable pillows behind him. He panted for a brief moment, running his hands over the tender scars on his neck and stomach, and he rolled his stiff neck before looking down to see the harm done.

It wasn’t as bad as he had feared, only crimson scars that would heal into white, and would fade with time. Permanent scars usually healed slower, and were often more purple. It was still enough to make him screw his eyes shut and fist the smooth sheets in his hands, trying to push back the memories.

Hot steel on his chest, robotic fingers holding him down, pins through his wrists, a scalpel digging through his flesh—

Warm fingers on his neck brought him back, and he tipped his body forward, strong hands catching him and pulling him close to a broad chest. 

“Brother,” Thor breathed, bringing Loki into his arms.

“You found me,” Loki murmured, and he felt Thor’s nose push at his neck. 

“I used the hylli.” Gently, Thor lifted him into his lap, and he leaned against the headboard, bracketing Loki in with his arms and legs. He was so much larger than Loki, a shield against the rest of the world. He pulled the sheet and blanket over them and Loki stewed in the warmth, keeping his eyes open, terrified that if he closed them, he would be back in that chair, those tight bands back around his chest, the endless darkness surrounding him.

“I am glad you remembered it,” Loki replied, trying to keep the snark out of his voice. Going by the way Thor’s arms tightened briefly around him, he had been unsuccessful. But they rested in silence for awhile before Eir returned. She flashed the two of them an unimpressed look and handed Thor a tonic, which he took a small sip of and then handed Loki.

“It is a healing tonic,” Eir informed him, and Thor nodded, helping Loki take the round vial into his shaking hands. He was still so weak. Eir waited until he swallowed it before taking the vial back and vacating the room. 

“How long did they have me?” Loki whispered, sighing as the warmth of the tonic spread through him. Thor’s hand came up and pet heavily down Loki’s hair. He remembered the way Killian had touched his hair in the same way but did not let himself move out from underneath Thor’s grasp. He could not show weakness, would not let Killian change him. Thor would not appreciate any change in Loki’s behavior, no matter the reason behind it. His brother was still far too dangerous for Loki to challenge him, no matter his plans.

“Nearly an entire day. I believe 20 hours. Steven contacted me within an hour of your capture, and I shamefully admit that it took me quite a few more to remember the hylli.” Loki rolled his eyes. “They refused to allow me to, as the Man of Iron said, ‘go balls to the wall in some half-baked rescue mission that would get us all killed’. You have good friends on Midgard, brother.” 

“Do not sound so shocked,” Loki drawled, pulling out of Thor’s grasp and burrowing down in the covers, resting his head on Thor’s lap. 

“Steven seems displeased with me,” Thor remarked, keeping his hand in Loki’s hair.

“Surely you cannot be surprised by that.”

“He says he remembers our last time together.” Rough fingers moved down to smooth over Loki’s bare neck. His fingers smoothed over the scars left from Killian’s collar and Loki hissed. His entire body ached. The relief of being home, being back on Asgard, being back with Thor, caused his soul to shiver. He had been attempting to figure out how to use Steve in his plans when Killian had taken him; perhaps this was a sign that Steve was meant to belong to him, meant to help him. 

“He showed me.” 

“I feel as if I must apologize again,” Thor finally said, his voice heavy, and his fingers brushed over the spot on Loki’s head where Mjolnir had descended upon him. 

“You can apologize every day for the rest of our lives and I would still not give you forgiveness.”

Thor was quiet for a great while, long enough for Loki to curl up to him, his head on Thor’s stomach, his arms wrapped around Thor’s torso. It was long enough for the healing tonic to finish it’s magic and begin to send him into slumber.

“I spent a great many years unable to understand your disputes with Odin, and even myself. I spent so much time and energy attempting to convince you that every argument was caused by something you had done, or said, or not done. I have always had so much love for you, beloved, but I did not let myself know you, or understand you, because it was easier not to. It was easier to not argue with my friends if they said something cruel, because were they truly wrong? Yes, you were sneaky, you did use seidr, you never cared about valor or honor or bounty beyond what you desired for your own use.

“They would call you selfish and I would see you rather spend time studying or in lessons than go practice with us, and I would think, ‘Perhaps they are right. Not wanting to spend time with me, with what I wish to do, is selfish.’ And I would believe these cruel thoughts, and I would not put in the effort to understand _why_ my brother, the most precious person in my life, would rather spend his time hidden away in a classroom rather than on the training grounds. I let my friends pull us apart and then blamed you for it. I would listen to Odin spit lies and I would nod my head and not defend you.” Loki tipped his head back, peering up the great expanse of Thor’s chest to notice that his brother was crying, and his tears slipped from his cheeks to land on Loki’s own face. He touched his hand to his face and looked down on the shining tear. Very carefully, while Thor was distracted in his own useless angst, Loki flicked his fingers and the tear disappeared.

“I would think about it, and I would only see these wrongs that I had been told you enacted upon our father, and my friends. I would love you, and I would blame you. I would tell you that you needed to change yourself, that you were the one in the wrong. Nobody ever asked Odin to forgive you; only you were asked. I understand now how unfair it was to ask that of you.”

Thor took a deep breath and he tilted his head down to meet Loki’s dark gaze. “I never expect you to forgive me for your last death, or any of them. I would never ask that of you, and I would never ask that you change yourself for me. I do not even ask for your understanding.” 

Strong hands grasped both of Loki’s biceps and lifted him off of Thor, raised him that they were both at eye-level. So very interesting how Thor could say so much and mean so little.

“I wish for nothing more than your understanding, brother, and your forgiveness of me. I would do whatever it takes to gain that from you. But I do not ask for it, and I do not expect it.”

“You love me,” Loki whispered, even though he could still feel the phantom crush of Mjolnir against his skull. It never really went away, not entirely. He would know the pain of Thor killing him until he died again. He would rather die at his own hand than feel Mjolnir upon him again. Oh, his foolish brother. How could he kill someone and hope that they would do nothing in revenge?

“More than my own life. More than anyone has been loved in any history. I will go to Valhalla with the agony of my heart having hurt you for so long, and so many times.” Thor shook Loki gently. “You are the love of my life, but I have taken yours from you, and I live with that pain every day of my life.”

He released Loki enough that Loki could lean against Thor’s legs that were bracketed against him. “I have never...felt such affection for another than how I feel for you, Thor,” Loki lied, his voice hoarse. Thor’s eyes welled up again with tears. “My love for you is echoed by our lifetimes together. But I _loved_ Stephen. I still love him. You can kill me to keep me from him, but I still never stop in my affection for him. I can never forgive you for that.”

“I do not ask for it,” Thor promised him, and he held his palm to the skin over Loki’s heart. 

There was so much still bursting to be said between them, but Loki feigned tiredness. He said as much, and Thor held him close, swearing to keep Loki safe from anything that would harm him.

He laid awake for just a bit longer. He pushed down his rage and the betrayal and moved his wrists a bit to center himself with the pain. How easy it would be to slide a knife into his brother’s chest and escape into the night. It took everything in his power to stop himself. The pay-off of his inevitable betrayal would be so much more delicious. He merely needed patience. But he was so tired of Thor’s endless excuses, his manipulations, his justifications for his terrible actions. Yet he would wait. He needed time to heal himself anyway. He slipped into sleep, Thor warm around him.

* * *

Eir allowed Loki to return to his quarters in the morning, but Thor forbid him from returning to Midgard for at least a few more days. Loki indulged his brother for an entire day and then escaped to his chambers, wrapping his robes around himself as he settled behind his desk. There was not as much work as he had expected, and he paged through some of it, pausing over the latest request for more funds from the Einherjar. He found himself rubbing at the scars on his wrists and grit his teeth. Everything else had healed completely during his rest except for his wrists. 

He spent a few hours going through forms and requests and reports, and he signed what needed to be signed before stretching and calling for a servant. One appeared in the doorway and he quietly asked for his dinner, and she came back a few minutes later with a heavily laden tray, leaving it on the small table in front of the fire.

He finished his tea and took a few moments to organize his desk before gathering himself and moving over to his dinner. It was usual Asgardian fare, with a thick, heavy roast, bread, and greens. He had grown used to the varied meals of Midgard. He had a craving for fish, but he could sate that elsewhere. There were enough mockeries in Asgardian culture about Jotun cuisine; he did not need to raise questions about his behavior, not when he needed to stay under the radar for his plans to be successful.

The meat was gamey and greasy and Loki tore it into small pieces, layering it between bits of bread, nibbling on it as he stared into the fire. 

Even now, as he kept busy, he could feel phantom robotic fingers running over his skin. He brushed his hand over his hair, pushing away the feeling of Killian’s fingers petting him. The scar on his arm where he had been opened felt as painful now as when it had happened. His wrists ached, and he shook his head, spreading his clammy hands pointedly over his thighs before engaging himself again in the food. He wished Thor had not killed the man, wished he could have torn his throat out and ripped his body into unrecognizable pieces.

He ate slowly. He was not particularly hungry, but Loki had lived through a great many periods in his life where he was not hungry, or somehow unable to eat, and he knew how quickly he could grow weak. His seidr needed replenished.

It also reminded him of his time under the Other, of the great long fall into the Void.

He shuddered and wrapped his cloak even tighter around himself, flicking a bit of seidr at the fire to stoke it. The room quickly warmed, but he could still feel a bit of chill deep in his chest, where no fire could reach.

Loki sat in silence for a bit, taking sips of the mead the servant had left for him, and he did his best not to think about anything. It was difficult, as he was not someone wont to quiet solemnity, especially in his own mind, but it was peaceful. It was needed. 

He spent a time reinforcing the wards around his mind, making sure that Killian hadn’t breached them. He had to fix a great deal of his personal wards, but that was to be expected; Killian had merely muscled past his protection, had forced his seidr into hiding through pain, had broken his wards into small bits and pieces. He was safer in the palace than surely anywhere else, but Loki did not trust anyone. Stark had sworn to him that he was safe in the Tower, yet he had been easily taken. He had been stolen right in front of his allies, in front of his friends. 

He had patched up his wards as well as he could, and picked a bit more at his meal, before banishing the dishes to the kitchens and taking his leave back to his quarters. Thor was nowhere to be found, so Loki quickly stripped, drawing a bath for himself. He added a few crystals that would soften his skin, and would clean his hair, and he slid into the warm water, leaning against the side of the tub as his seidr worked quickly to cleanse him. He brought a small vial of healing salve with him, rubbing it into his wrists.

He lit a few candles and floated in the quiet darkness for awhile. He pushed away any memory from his brief capture and focused instead on his various plans for his revenge against Thor. It was soothing, given that he could not bring Killian back to life and kill himself. Yet another thing Thor had stolen from him. He found himself running his fingers over the scars left from the robots, and he fisted his hands at his sides, forcing himself not to dwell on it. He had been harmed but he would not let it change him. He would not let it affect him or his life.

He was stronger than what had been done to him, either this or what he had suffered under Thor or the Other or anyone else. None could wish to break him. He was strong, and filled with rage enough for ten people. It burnt out any pain, any wish for anything else.

He ignored the tear that slipped down his cheek.


	6. CH6

Loki returned to Stark Tower a few days later, ignoring Thor’s wishes for him to stay on Asgard, bringing along with him a few ward stones and a basket of goodwill. It was overfull with various goods, from breads and salted meats, to small bags of candies, and he made sure to add in a few various types of gems for Stark to experiment on. 

The penthouse was empty when Loki arrived, and he took a few of the ward stones, hiding them in various places around the floor. He saved a few to give to the various Avengers directly, and he glanced around the large main room, noting that the mess from the robots and his capture had already been cleaned, with the window already have been repaired. His helm was nowhere to be found, but perhaps Stark still had it.

Loki found himself staring at the spot he had been taken from—it had been thoroughly cleaned, but there were still dark scorch marks upon the floor—for long enough that he did not hear who came into the room. He was startled out of his contemplation by a hand on his back, and it took every ounce of his centuries-long self control not to spin around and slice their head off.

Good thing too, as it was Steve, who greeted him with a smile and a one-armed hug. He held Loki’s helmet in his hand, and graciously offered it over. Loki smiled at him, quickly glancing over the helmet before smoothing his hands over one curved horn and sending it into a pocket dimension. 

“Captain,” Loki greeted, and he stepped back from Steve’s grasp, fishing out a ward stone from his pockets. “Please place this in your residence, closest to the center as you can manage.”

Steve took the stone and held it up, as if he could see the spells Loki had placed upon it. “Sure, but wanna tell me what it does? How are you, by the way? Thor tore you off to Asgard before we could even see how you were doing. Oh, I have something I need to tell you.” Strangely enough, he glanced around, as if someone was listening in. Loki sent out a wave of seidr, but there was nobody else of the floor of the building. 

“It is a ward stone. It will slow down, if not stop completely, any intruders into your home. I was remiss in not giving Stark any of them earlier, but he had assured me his home was safe.” Loki turned his head away from Steve and looked back at the window the drones had burst through. “I was a fool for believing him. What do you wish to tell me?”

“Not here,” Steve muttered, but he pulled Loki towards the couch anyway. “Are you healed? You looked pretty rough on that table.”

Loki took the seat next to Steve and smoothed his clothes down over his thighs, and Steve reached over and took one of Loki’s hands in both of his own. His hands were warm, and rough, and his touch calmed something riotous in Loki’s heart. 

“I have fared better,” Loki finally admitted, even as it felt as if he was pulling his own tongue out. “I have been…harmed before, but it is not something one gets used to.” Steve stayed quiet, other than making a sound showing he was listening. “My brother’s quick use of seidr upon my rescue was able to halt the worst of the injuries, and our greatest healer worked a great deal of spells upon me to heal me.”

“Thor was…frantic. I told him, you know, about remembering stuff from that other timeline. He wasn’t surprised.”

Loki let out a small laugh. “You will find that few things surprise my brother. But yes, he informed me. I feasted with him and the Warriors Three and Sif the night before last, and a bard crafted a great song of his heroic rescue of me. He also told me that you were only second to him in ferocity.” Loki glanced up at Steve through his lashes, laughing at the slight flush that drew over the Captain’s cheekbones. 

“I was worried,” Steve finally muttered, but he squeezed Loki’s hand and then glanced around the room. “Everyone is down in Tony’s lab, or off doing something for SHIELD. I told JARVIS to let me know when you returned, so I was just waiting around up here. Are you hungry? I could eat.”

“Certainly,” Loki replied, not trying his hide the amused tone of his voice, and he followed Steve out of the penthouse, the two of them sharing a comfortable silence during the long elevator ride down. 

Steve led him through a few blocks to a small cafe. He herded Loki to a table in a dark corner, and then went to get drinks for them, bringing Loki back a warm chocolate coffee. 

“What has you so concerned, my friend? I can promise you that I have strengthened my personal defenses—”

“Tony took a vial of your blood,” Steve hissed, leaning over the table. “I saw him sneak it before Thor destroyed them. I tried to get it, but he pretended like he hadn’t, and JARVIS refused me access to his lab when I tried to go find it to destroy it.”

Well then.

Loki leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee as he thought. Stark having any part of him—skin cells, hair, _anything_ —filled him with dread and nausea, and he knew that Stark had not taken his blood for any type of puritan purpose. Stark was no threat to him, nor was his technology, but Stark could make things moderately difficult for him. 

“You believe he keeps my blood in his lab?” Even if Stark had synthesized his blood in such a manner to gain the capability to utilize the remnants of his seidr in it, and create some manner of ward against him, Loki could still slip past it. 

“I think he’s trying to use it to figure out what makes Aesir different than humans,” Steve said, and he rubbed at his chin before continuing, pitching his voice low, “or he’s trying to get a hold of your magic.”

Loki merely smiled. “I can assure you that none of Stark’s technology, or nothing he could create, even if he was given the next thousand years, could contain me. Again, you believe my blood, now stolen _twice_ from me, is in his laboratory?”

Steve nodded.

Loki placed his coffee cup on the table and stood up, gathering his seidr. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said to Steve, who stared up at him with those true blue eyes, and Loki flicked himself through space.

He did not have to slide between dimensions or planes, as Stark Tower was very close. He merely pulled himself quickly enough between time and air that he was unable to be seen, and the travel was instantaneous. He cloaked himself from the gaze of the computer that controlled Stark’s Tower and the rest of Stark’s life apparently, and glanced around the messy lab. Stark had clearly been involved in some project. The lab was empty for the moment, but Stark or his compatriots could return at any moment. 

Loki pricked one of his fingers and used his seidr to seek out the rest of his blood. It was in various places around the lab, but he gathered it up easily enough. Some of it was still in the vial, and the rest of it was on various glass slides. He thought about letting Stark keep whatever data he had gathered, as Stark could do no harm with it, if he could even understand what he had found in the first place. 

He did quickly tap through one of the computers, and found that Stark had run experiments on his helmet, and had begun working on a mechanism or some manner of software to track Loki’s seidr. Loki hummed as he deleted that information, and then after a moment of thought, he sent a spell into the computer that would act as a virus and destroy the rest of the information on it. He decided that Stark was too dangerous to be trusted, even if Loki rather believed he would be able to do little with whatever information he had discovered.

Someone opened the door to the lab, and Loki turned back to see that Stark, Banner, and the Pepper woman were returning. He glanced around the room and shrugged, gathering his seidr back up and stepping back through the worlds to deposit him back in the cafe, where Steve was uncomfortably waiting for him.

“Oh!” Steve shot to his feet and glanced over Loki, holding his hands out as if he could pat him down. Loki gave him an amused glance and gracefully retook his seat, Steve sitting back down after a moment, glancing over his shoulder at the oblivious waitresses.

“They cannot see us,” Loki assured him, taking a sip of his mocha. “You were correct. Stark was experimenting with my blood.”

“He’s no better than Killian,” Steve growled. “Are you going to tell Thor?”

“For what reason?”

“He shouldn’t be doing that. It’s wrong. Thor could…threaten him, or something.”

Loki gave Steve a warm smile, or as warm as his face could manage. “I do not need my brother to fight any of my battles, Captain. Surely you would not want Thor to harm your friend in defense of me.”

“I don’t like him. I was friends with his dad, not him. You’re my friend.” Loki leaned back, stunned. “Tony is a coworker, at best. I don’t agree with him doing that to anyone, let alone you.”

It took Loki’s brain a moment to spin up to speed enough to acknowledge that Captain America considered _him_ a friend, but then he merely smirked and nodded. “I appreciate the bravado, my Captain, but I do not need my brother to threaten a Midgardian scientist in defense of me. I can assure you that I am ferocious enough on my own. Do you know how Stark got his hands on my helmet? He was experimenting on the seidr attached to it.”

Steve ran his hand over his face. “Before Thor remembered that spell that ties the two of you together, he asked Tony if he could track your magic on it. We must’ve left it with him.”

“Ah. And that it what gave him the idea.” Loki shrugged. “I destroyed his computer that held the information regarding my seidr anyway.”

Steve sighed but nodded. “That’s good.” 

They sat in silence for a minute before Loki delicately cleared his throat and met Steve’s gaze. “I…appreciate you telling me of this. And for telling Thor that I had been taken.”

“Of course,” Steve replied, and he finished his coffee, taking his cup over to the trash. Loki finished his own coffee and followed Steve out of the cafe.

They walked in companionable silence back to Stark Tower, and they took the elevator to the floor Steve’s rooms were on, Loki shedding his cape and his outerwear once the door closed behind them. 

He asked for the ward stone he had given Steve, and it was obligingly handed over, Steve taking a seat on the recliner as he watched Loki twist a few more vines of seidr around it.

“Do you have another residence?”

“Not yet. I’ve looked, but every place I find usually has surveillance from either SHIELD or the Army. At least here I know just Tony is watching me.”

Loki shot him an amused glance and twisted his hand around the ward stone, sending it to the middle of the apartment. He took a seat on the couch on the end closest to Steve. “I can offer my assistance with that issue.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

Steve turned on the TV and Loki pulled out a book from the pocket dimension that housed his library, paging through it while Steve clearly fought with himself about saying something.

Finally, after nearly an hour of the two of them sitting in silence, Steve blurted out, “In that last timeline, Bucky was alive. I found him. He survived.”

Loki did not look up from his book. “Do you remember all of it?”

Steve’s face was pale and drawn and he rubbed his fingers over his forehead. Loki waved his hand and the TV flickered off. He closed his book and looked over at Steve. “We have to find him. There’s so much I remember, it’s just all muddled up and I feel like for every one thing I can figure out, ten more things come up in its place.”

Loki looked at him for a long moment before asking, “Have you ever fought a hydra?”

“I spent two years taking out every one of it’s bases that I could find.”

Loki shook his head. “Not the organization. The actual creature.” 

Steve looked up at him with a frown. “I can’t say I have.”

“Well, I have. There are many names for them, but the most common is _ovaettr_ , or, in your tongue, evil creature. They live in water, and are thus found mostly on Jotunheim and Vanaheim. Some of them are very ancient, and are almost sentient, and can travel between realms. My brother and I, along with the Warriors Three and Sif, were called upon a few centuries ago to dispatch of an ancient hydra that had found its way to Asgard. I have killed other ones than that, but that ferocious beast is the important one now.”

Steve looked fascinated, and Loki smiled a bit, lifting his hands to recreate the scene before them with seidr. Six small figures were on a great green field, with a massive dark monster roaring silently at the far end. It had ten heads, each one uglier than the last, and massive, clawed feet, that it used to swipe up a warrior and throw it aside. The figures began attacking the hydra as Loki continued.

“A hydra, especially an ancient one, is a formidable beast. It is very powerful and has been building seidr in self defense for decades, if not centuries. Thus, whenever you cut off a head, as the legend goes, two more take its place.” One of the small figures brought up a massive axe and managed to get close enough to bring up the axe and cut off a head with one powerful strike. The heads let out silent roars and the figure was thrown back across the field as two more heads grew in its place. The six figures grouped together on the far side of the field.

“It took us a great many attempts to finally take down the hydra.” The scene changed, and two figures stood in front of the hydra, which now had nearly twenty heads, all snaking around and snarling and spitting various substances. The other four figures snuck around the sides of the beast, and suddenly, there was a riotous burst of light, as lightning and fire and green seidr tore through the various heads of the hydra as the other four figures leapt upon the monster, severing the rest of the heads before they could regrow. 

“Thor and I worked together, my seidr and his power over storms temporarily incapacitating the hydra as the Warriors Three and Sif snuck behind it and severed the rest of its heads. But I delivered the killing blow, using my seidr as a knife to drive into the beast’s heart.”

“What are you saying?” Steve asked, finally looking away from the illusion, which disappeared in a flash of light.

“We can spend our time and energy attempting to cut off the monster’s heads, or we can distract it, and cut out its heart.”

Steve smiled at him.

* * *

They began looking for another residence for Steve a couple days later. Stark had somehow gotten wind of Steve’s search (Steve thought the guy was monitoring his internet searches) and had sent him about 50 potential apartments. None of them were really what he was looking for but he also didn’t really know just _what_ he was looking for. He just wanted a place of his own. And going by how Loki had apparently taken up residence in his living room, he was looking for a place for Loki to camp out in as well. 

It was nice, having someone who didn’t really expect anything of him. Loki expected him to pander to him, but he expected that of everyone. He hadn’t been raised with the legend of Captain America like everyone else Steve talked to. He just expected that Steve’s attention was on him constantly, and really, it was fairly easy. Loki was like a magnet; Steve couldn’t look away. 

There were a few apartments that he had scheduled showings for that they were going to go look at. Steve had always been an early riser, and not having a mission or a bell to rise to hadn’t changed that. He was making himself toast and coffee in his small kitchenette when Loki jerked awake, breathing heavily for a moment before gathering himself and sitting up. Loki still looked put-together and proper even after sleeping on a too-small couch for ten hours. 

“Coffee?” Steve offered, and he could just about hear Loki rolling his eyes. Loki only liked coffee when it was about 90% chocolate, and Steve just didn’t have it in himself to give someone that much sugar. 

Loki grunted and swung himself off the couch, standing up and stretching like a big, greasy cat. He ignored the guest bathroom and slid into Steve’s room to use his bathroom, even though it was completely identical to the other bathroom. 

Someone tapped on the door and Steve called them in. Natasha stepped in, dropping a drink carrier onto the counter. She handed Steve two of the coffees and then a small paper bag with a croissant in it.

“Didn’t know what tall, greasy, and godlike wanted, so I figured he could just conjure up his food,” she offered, sliding onto one of the weird minimalist stools on the other side of the breakfast bar. She took the lid off her coffee and stirred it with her finger. Steve shrugged and plated his toast. “How’s he holding up?”

“Alright, I think,” Steve answered after a moment, chewing thoughtfully. Toast hadn’t changed much in 70 years. “He has nightmares. But we all have nightmares.” Natasha nodded slightly. “I think he’s mostly here because Thor wants him back on Asgard.”

“He could be sleeping anywhere,” Natasha pointed out, and Steve shrugged one shoulder. He couldn’t imagine Loki being comfortable sleeping by himself in an unfamiliar location. The god was too paranoid and too used to hearing someone else breathe. He knew how that went.

“I asked him to stay,” Steve informed her, and she caught the obvious lie, but didn’t say anything. “Any news for me?” he asked after finishing his toast. He dropped the plate into the sink and the two of them watched in silence as one of the coffees Natasha had brought and the croissant floated up out of the drink carrier and into Steve’s bedroom. Natasha threw him an amused look and Steve just rolled his eyes. 

“No updates,” she said after a moment. “Barton is over his...he called it a stomach bug, I don’t know what it was. And Banner and Stark have been experimenting in Stark’s lab for the last few weeks. No updates or missions from SHIELD. We’re on vacation.”

Loki made his usual dramatic entrance into the kitchen, coffee in one hand and the stolen croissant in the other, his dressing gown open and flowing out behind him. Steve was fairly certain he put a spell on it to make it look more dramatic. He was wearing black leggings and a grey tank top and he flashed Natasha a bored look and slid onto a stool, leaving one open between them. “Are you coming with?” he queried, ripping the croissant into tiny pieces and dropping them into his mouth.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him and turned to Steve. “We’re apartment shopping,” Steve offered up weakly.

_We?_ she mouthed, but then she shook her head, unable to keep the amusement off her face. “I want to actually enjoy my vacation,” she replied, and took a sip of her coffee. Loki just shrugged. The three of them sat in awkward silence for a couple minutes before Loki excused himself to go get dressed. He started changing in the middle of the living room and Natasha quickly left. Loki threw Steve a smug look and Steve just sighed. Loki had always underestimated her.

He ducked back into his bedroom and took a quick shower, ignoring Loki’s debris from where he’d bathed earlier. He got dressed and met Loki in the living room and they headed out, catching one of Tony’s chauffeured cars that he’d kept on retainer for the Avengers.

Steve handed the driver the addresses and he and Loki slid into the back seat. Loki had a slight frown on his face as he glanced around the car, and Steve thought for a moment about the consequences of asking, before doing so. Loki eyed him and then elegantly shrugged one shoulder. He murmured Stephen’s name and Steve sat back with a nod. He didn’t need to know anymore than that.

The first apartment was only twenty or so minutes away, and the driver told them to call him when they were headed out as they both slid out of the car. Steve thanked him and he glanced up and down the street before buzzing at the door. They were let in a few moments later, and the landlord met them just inside the entryway. She was an older woman, thin, with a tightly bound grey bun. She glanced over Loki and introduced herself to Steve before she led them up the stairs and down the hall to the apartment. 

The apartment was fine. Steve didn’t really have any problems with it. There were two bedrooms, each with their own bathroom, a spacious living room, and an open concept kitchen. It looked comfortable enough, and was within walking distance of some good restaurants and close enough to Avengers Tower. 

Loki hated every single inch of it.

There was too much road noise, the neighbor above was apparently fighting a bilgesnipe, the sink was useless, where was the washing apparatus? They both ate a lot, was there no more storage space for food? The bedrooms were both poorly designed. There was a light across the street that would surely shine in at all hours.

Steve ended up excusing the two of them before the landlord could smack Loki, and he texted the driver to meet them outside as they trotted down the stairs.

“A poor place to put homes,” Loki sneered, flicking his hair over his shoulder. Steve held the door open for him as Loki complained about Midgard’s lack of seidr but their dormant leylines were still important and determined his comfort in a home.

Steve clapped him on the shoulder as the car pulled up. “You’re welcome to go back to the Tower, you know,” he pointed out, and Loki stiffened, glancing between Steve and the car door he was holding open.

“If my presence is unwelcome,” he began, but Steve interrupted him.

“You’re welcome to come along,” Steve replied, motioning for Loki to get into the car. The god cautiously complied, and Steve slid in after him. “I just don’t have any interest in hearing everything you hate. Try giving me something good.”

Loki shot him a curious look as they rode in silence to the next apartment. Finally, as they exited the car, Loki ground out, “I will endeavour to be more...positive.”

Steve palmed the back of his neck. “I just don’t have any interest in beating up some poor guy because he punched you, that’s all,” he offered up, and Loki’s lips curled in a surprised smile.

* * *

SHIELD had wanted Steve to live in the Triskelion, but he declined, saying that he just wanted to keep to himself for awhile. He was happy to help, he told them, but he needed his own space away from the modern world. Of course, once he had finally found an apartment, SHIELD put their own surveillance on it, which Loki quickly disabled. It was fairly sized, with two bedrooms, and Loki put his seidr to work in soundproofing and enlarging the rooms, putting heavy wards over it and keeping it safe enough that he could feel at ease there. It had taken the two of them just over a month to find a suitable residence in a different city than the place that Stark lived, and Loki was glad for it. It was the first place they had looked at that he had been perfectly comfortable in, and Steve had liked it as well.

He went to his own room, using seidr to change into warm linens, running his fingers over the faded scars on his chest, and he met Steve in the kitchen, the two of them working in companionable silence to make dinner. Loki took his own food to the couch, looking out the window at the apartment building across the street, where a few agents were attempting to monitor their conversations. 

As he had over the past month, Loki attempted to use his seidr to reach Asgard. For some reason, it was closed to him, and he had called for his brother and Heimdall and a raven, all to no avail. He could not reach his home, no matter how he tried. Even his world walking led him to nothing, only darkness. He could tell that Thor still lived, but nothing more than that. If he used the hylli, it led him nowhere. It was agonizing. He was abandoned on Midgard, alone and forgotten.

“Still nothing?” Steve sat down next to him, blowing over his soup.

“Still nothing,” Loki muttered, turning away from the window and the vast skies above. “I fear for my home.”

“Thor told us about the Convergence last go around. Anything to do with that?”

Loki shook his head and dipped his bread into his soup. “Regrettably, I do not remember enough of the Convergence to know about that. I was in a prison cell every time it happened.” He sighed and tugged on the hylli again, but there was nothing coming back from Thor’s end. “Thor should be on Svartalfheim now, but I cannot travel even there.” He hissed. “Useless.”

“Hey, don’t say that. You’re helping me here.”

This was an old argument, one that they had worn thin through the past weeks. But Loki merely shook his head. He should be fighting at Thor’s side. It was his _place_. He was helping Steve here, every day pulling him closer to Stephen, but he belonged with Thor. Nothing in his plans allowed for this length of separation between him and his King. He had only been rescued from Killian’s grasp mere weeks ago, and he was abandoned on Midgard as payment for his rescue? He could not fathom a reason. He had begun developing new schemes, ones that involved Steve, but it was not his preference. 

“What do we do next?” Steve asked, and Loki sighed, slowly stirring his soup as he thought, attempting to remember the timelines and everything that came later.

“Sam Wilson,” he finally said, and Steve lit up.

“I missed him,” he admitted, and Loki gave his friend a smile.

“Soon we will have to go against SHIELD,” Loki reminded Steve, who nodded. “It will take time.”

“Natasha helped last time.”

Loki tapped his fingers on the side of his bowl and then looked down into it. “Do you wish to…bring her into the fold, as it were?”

“If it happens, it happens. I’ll think about it, but I got you. Don’t think I’ll need anyone else.”

Loki hid his smile as he sipped from his bowl, but Steve nudged him in the side and they settled close together on the couch, Steve reaching for the remote and turning it to a baseball game. Loki finished his soup before sending his empty bowl to the sink with a bit of seidr, and at Steve’s grin, he did the same with his. 

He woke awhile later, curled up on Steve’s chest, the supersoldier quiet beneath him, one hand petting through his hair, his other arm around Loki’s waist. Loki went to pull away, but Steve tightened his arm, and Loki moved over so that he could look up and meet Steve’s gaze.

“I am not him,” Loki murmured, and Steve shook his head.

“Nobody could make that mistake,” Steve assured him, and Loki yawned, summoning a blanket that settled gently over them.

“At least take me to a proper bed,” Loki grumbled, and Steve chuckled beneath him.

“You might weigh more than I can lift.”

“Surely the great Captain America could lift my lithe form,” he drawled with a smirk. “I am one of the least muscular Aesir. The Lady Sif weighs more than I.”

Steve just laughed at him and easily pushed to his feet, Loki in his arms. He shifted Loki in his arms and guessed, “I’d say around 500lbs. Not too bad.”

He carried Loki to his bedroom and the two of them changed into bedclothes, Loki opening his pocket portal to pull out a few furs and more comfortable sheets. He quickly changed the bed covers to more agreeable ones as he asked Steve about his maximum weight limit.

Steve threw an uncomfortable glance at the furs but then shrugged and slid in between the sheets, remarking on how soft they were. “I’ve never tested it. I think there were plans to figure out my limitations, but Erskrine was killed before they could do anything. When I was with the Howling Commandos, we tried a few times to figure out how much I could lift, or how fast I could run, but we didn’t really have a scientific lab or anything to truly test it.”

Loki hummed as he pulled furs over the both of them. He made a disgruntled sound at the flatness of Steve’s pillows, but he supposed he could deal with it. “I suppose I’ll just have to have faith you will be able to fight off all of my paramours.”

Chuckling, Steve pulled him close, Loki’s cool skin warmed quickly by Steve’s furnace of a body. “I’ll keep you safe until Stephen can find you.”

“My hero,” Loki murmured, and let sleep take him away.

He dreamed of bands squeezing his chest, pain in his wrists, hands in his hair. He awoke with a start to feel Steve’s arms around him. He smiled and laid for awhile in the dark. Perhaps it would not be so difficult to change what he had schemed. Perhaps he could make his abandonment work in his favor.


	7. CH7

Stark called them in the morning, Loki pulling Steve through a quick world walk to deposit them in Stark’s penthouse. His wrists still ached whenever he used his seidr, but it was easy enough to ignore it. Stark had never mentioned that Loki’s blood and the information on his seidr had disappeared, but he had grown far colder to the both of them ever since Loki’s capture and subsequent rescue. He occasionally asked about Thor, but Loki stayed tight-lipped about his King and refused to divulge any information about his disconnect with Asgard. 

There wasn’t any mission or demands from Fury, but they had made the habit of getting together even in the rare times of peace. Stark updated everyone on his continued development of more advanced Iron Man suits, and the Widow and Hawkeye both laid out the bare details of a mission they had gone on for SHIELD. Banner was still working on what research he had gained from the Scepter, something that he freely admitted he was years away from deciphering or understanding. All Steve and Loki had to say that they had moved in together in an apartment in Washington, DC, and the rest of the Avengers stared at them, slack-jawed, and didn’t think to ask about anything else they were doing.

“Taking up with a God, eh, Cap?” Stark asked, flicking his gaze over Loki as if he could figure out what his body looked like beneath his leathers. Loki merely raised an eyebrow. “Regular humans not good enough for you anymore?”

Steve didn’t rise to the bait. “He needed a place to stay, so did I.”

Stark wasn’t able to hide his jealousy as he looked between them. Loki wondered how much he had wanted the great and famous Captain America to stay in his building, how much he had heard of Steve from his father. “Sounds good, lovebirds. I’ll keep your rooms here if you ever need them.”

“Rooms?” Loki inquired silkily. “I was never offered rooms here.” He tipped his head at the Widow and Barton. “Do you have beds here? Surely I was not the only one without quarters.”

Barton gave Loki a strange look, like he was battling with himself over lying or telling the truth. “We share one of the floors.”

Turning a shocked look onto Stark, Loki jeered, “After all I did for your realm, Stark, and I cannot even have a place to lay my head! And now you act as if I committed a personal grievance against your person for wishing to stay with my friend.”

Banner, as always, diffused the situation, leaning forward across the table to put a hand up. “Tony didn’t know you wanted one. It’s also harder to lodge an Asgardian because you guys weigh so much more, and are so much more powerful than us.”

Loki merely smiled as wide as he could manage. “Oh, I surely believe there was no insult intended. Especially given that any slight against my person could be taken as a recourse for war against Asgard.” Steve muttered that he had gone far enough and Loki waved away whatever bluster Stark was going to blabber at him, and he questioned the rest of the table about what else they needed to catch up on.

Thankfully, Fury’s face showed up on the screen behind Stark, and their attention was taken away from Loki’s goading and to the Director. Fury asked for their various updates, and then reminded Stark that they had a call later, and ended the call.

Steve took in a sharp breath and shook his head when Loki turned a curious gaze onto him. The Avengers disbanded and regrouped in Stark’s living room, arguing over what they would order for dinner or what they would watch on TV. Steve told Loki that he would tell him whatever he had figured out later, and they relaxed on the biggest couch together, Loki requesting various dishes of sushi for their meal.

“I agree with Prince of Darkness over there, sushi sounds great.”

JARVIS ordered the food for them and Stark came over to join the two of them on the couch, sitting next to Steve, as Loki was leaning against the arm of the couch, pulling various gems out of a small bag and holding them up next to Steve’s skin. “Any more of those Alfheim jewels?”

Loki schooled the disgust from his face. “These are precious gems from various places in the Nine Realms. For instance,” he held up a bright blue sapphire the size of his thumbnail, “my brother gifted this to me many years ago after he defeated a beast on Vanaheim. I do not taint my gem bag with Alfheim gems.”

Stark just looked confused, looking between Steve and Loki. Steve just looked bored. “Those aren’t precious gems on Asgard? I took part of one of those Alfheim jewels to a jeweler and he told me it was literally priceless.”

“Of course he would, it was from another Realm. He would have no metric for pricing it out, and Midgard tends to hold such worthless things in high esteem.” Loki dropped the sapphire back into the bag and cinched it up, dropping it back into a pocket dimension. “Those jewels from Alfheim are essentially the same as rocks on Midgard. They’re everywhere. The very large ones are rare, and I am always gifted with ones that are ideally shaped and also have a powerful natural shine, which makes them worth a bit more, but they are essentially worthless to me.”

“Is that because you’re royalty? Do only peasants wear Alfheim jewelry?”

Loki smiled and glanced pointedly around Stark’s living room. “I do not believe that _you_ can judge me for living in wealth. But to answer your question, of course not. Nobody on Asgard wears Alfheim jewelry. It is ugly.”

“You’re not telling me _why_!” Stark snarled, and Loki’s smile only grew wider and nastier. 

“Why do humans not wear jewelry made from mud? Because it would be ugly. It is no different for the Aesir. Alfheim jewels give us no advantage, other than perhaps something similar to what you call a flashlight. Ugly bits of glass.” Barton was giving him a curious look, like he knew Loki was lying.

Shaking his head, Stark glared at him. “I really can’t stand you,” he grunted, and went over to the bar, taking a few shots and grumbling something to Banner, who merely rolled his eyes.

“He is very easy to antagonize,” Loki noted, and Steve gave a hoarse laugh and swung his arm over Loki’s shoulders, pulling the god closer. “Usually I have to try a bit harder than that.”

“You’re on edge,” Steve told him, rubbing his hand across Loki’s chest. “You get sharper when you’re worried.”

He didn’t deign to answer that, merely turning his attention to whatever nonsense playing on the TV, ignoring the Widow’s sharp look.

The sushi came awhile later, and Steve grabbed almost half of it for the two of them, and before anyone could object, Loki pulled them back to their apartment. He had found, over his long life, that interaction with other people was exhausting and draining. There were few people—his mother, Thor, and for those brief months, Stephen—that either took almost no energy or very limited energy to be around. Loki had found in his time on Midgard, that Steve was also one of those people. He made a note of that to the man, who looked profoundly uncomfortable and overfilled Loki’s plate before handing it over. He had found that he enjoyed the process of endearing himself to the Captain. 

They ate in silence, Loki turning his head every so often to look out at the sky, and once they were finished, Steve followed him into bed, where they curled together under the furs. Steve told Loki that he remembered finding a file in their other timeline, something that spoke of Project TAHITI, that had worked to bring various members of SHIELD and the Avengers back from the dead. Steve figured that they had been using Loki’s blood and seidr for it. 

“Would Stark truly work on such a project?”

Steve thought for a moment. “He lived his life under his father’s achievements. Howard helped create Captain America. I think Tony would do whatever it took to feel as good as Howard.”

“I can understand that.” He pulled the furs up over his chest and then curled up under them, flicking his fingers so the curtains pulled shut over the windows. It was dark out, but the streetlights were bright, and Loki preferred sleeping in complete darkness. Steve didn’t care one way or the other. “Do you believe that’s what Fury wanted to speak to him about?”

“Maybe. He’d have to tell Fury that he lost your blood eventually. We can’t ask about it either.”

“I’ll think of something,” Loki decided, and he lay in silence, staring up at the ceiling, as Steve wished him goodnight and immediately fell asleep. 

He still couldn’t reach Asgard. It was cut off completely from him. He still called out for his brother, but Thor somehow couldn’t hear. Loki had a moment of brief panic—how could Thor abandon him so soon after he had been kidnapped? What if Loki was in danger? What if Thor was in danger and Loki just wasn’t powerful enough to break through and help him? 

After awhile, he knew he would not be able to sleep, and Loki quietly left the bed, going out into the main room to pace and think. He could barely remember what had happened the first time, before Thanos had killed him. But he remembered Algrim, and the Aether, and…Jane Foster. Hmmm. Perhaps the Aether had possessed her again? But surely not. 

By the time Steve woke a few hours later, Loki had worked himself in a frenzy, pacing frantically back and forth as he flipped through every possible scenario—Thor dying on the throne, begging for Loki to find a way back to Asgard to save him; Thor possessed by the Aether; Thor being stabbed by a Dark Elf and dying on Svartalfheim, with no one to bring his body back; Loki, left behind on Midgard as Asgard was torn apart, unable to help or save his home. 

Steve pulled him out of it and pushed a cold cup of water in his hands, giving Loki a long look as he drank it all down. “You’re coming with me on my run,” he decided, and Loki, desperate for anything that would distract him, agreed, and changed his linens into something similar to Steve’s workout clothes. He had to guess at conjuring a pair of shoes that were similar to Steve’s sneakers, and he used a bit of seidr to tie his hair up, and then he followed the Captain out of their apartment. 

“I feel ridiculous.”

“Do you wear anything other than black?”

“I prefer it,” Loki replied, his nose in the air. Steve laughed at him, and Loki smiled in return. “I have been seen, on occasion, to wear green and gold. Silver as well.” They exited the building and they stretched together, Steve admiring how flexible Loki was. “Can you, my Captain, truly critique anyone’s outfit? I have fought alongside you as you don that ghastly costume.”

Steve began jogging, and Loki easily kept up, the two of them going down the road to the park that Steve had found Sam during the previous timeline. “I just wore what they gave me! Captain America and all that.”

“I understand the iconic symbolism of your outfit, but it is very gaudy.” They passed the hideous shaft of stone as Loki replied, and he glanced around to see that nobody was paying particular attention to them, which was good. He could cast a spell over the both of them to make them more unnoticeable, but that would surely defeat the purpose of attempting to find Sam Wilson.

“Gaudy!?” Steve blustered. “Coming from you? You wear literal gold rings and all of your outfits have gold necklaces on them and you have a cape! On most of your clothes!”

“You dress like a cartoon character!”

“I don’t even think you know what that means!” Well, Loki had to give him that one.

They shared a grin and Steve stepped up the pace, Loki easily keeping up. He had spent his youth training under Einherjar warriors; a bit of running was nothing to him. 

They kept pace for a few tracks around the park, both of them keeping an eye out for Sam, and Steve finally slowed to a stop near that horrible stone spire. “I don’t see him,” he told Loki, breathing a bit hard. 

Loki was barely out of breath. “This is the time you would generally see him? The morning, yes?”

Steve nodded and they continued glancing around, Steve finally ceding defeat after a few more minutes. He led Loki to a nearby bench and they sat together in comfortable silence. 

Loki spread out his seidr and briefly attempted to feel for Sam before he went back to trying to contact Asgard. Steve slung his arm over Loki’s shoulders and they leaned closer together as Loki once again came up with nothing. 

“Still not there?”

“Can you feel when I try?”

“I can feel when you spread your magic out, I guess? It’s like a flicker over my skin. You know how you feel when you’re waking up and you kind of come into wakefulness and you can feel the sheets and the blankets on your skin and it’s a sense of comfort? It’s like that.”

“My seidr brings you comfort.” Loki kept his voice flat, not daring to look up at Steve, who just shrugged. 

“Sure it does. What else would it do?”

“You may be the first in the Nine Realms to hold such a claim,” Loki told him, and Steve shrugged again, not pushing when Loki didn’t elaborate. 

They ended up not finding Sam Wilson, but they found a small bistro and shared a couple sandwiches and salads. They threw off the SHIELD tail and walked around the city for a bit, enjoying each other’s company, before returning to their apartment. Loki quickly changed into his linens, pacing around the living room as Steve went to shower.

It had been almost two months since his return to Midgard and the subsequent silence from Asgard. Time passed differently on Midgard, but he had been held captive for nearly an entire day, and had spent nearly a week recovering from his injuries. He had seen nothing in his usual work that would indicate troubles between Asgard and anyone capable of completely blocking his connection with his home realm. 

He pulled out one of his seidr journals with the various timelines he had been able to cobble together, but nothing made sense. It was as if the timeline he was in now was both forward and backward. He still did not even know how Thor had cast such a powerful spell. Nothing in any of his research, in any time, had lead him to find such a spell. What had Thor wrought by doing this to them? 

Time. 

Loki snapped the journal shut and tapped his fingers briefly on the cover before sending it away. He flicked a note onto the coffee table that he would be back soon, and he closed his eyes, feeling out for the magic of the Kamar-Taj. 

He tugged on the magic of the wards and pulled them close, stepping through the worlds, Steve’s apartment vanishing behind him. He kept himself invisible as he stood on the busy sidewalk, hands behind his back, head tilted back as he examined the wards on the Kamar-Taj. Stephen was surely years yet away from this place, and his own presence had not had a chance to cast a flavor on the wards, but they were similar enough to the wards on the Sanctum that Loki was comfortable enough with them. 

In the time past, Loki had manufactured himself a back door through the Sanctum’s wards. It had been something to do during the boring hours researching or attempting to fall asleep with Thor’s arm across his throat. It had taken him a few weeks of sporadic and unfocused work. As with most things, it had generally come from a habit of self preservation and boredom. 

These wards were old, very old, but Loki was older, and far more powerful. He did not want to leave the Kamar-Taj open to invasion or to cause vulnerabilities that could possibly affect Stephen in the future, so he kept himself from merely breaking them open and strolling in. Surely slipping in and out unnoticed would not be as dramatic, but it was more effective. 

It took almost an hour to slice open a hidden portal just big enough for him to slip through, and it landed him in the sanctuary’s massive library. He was alone, and he took just a moment to look around. Stephen would be here someday, surely standing in this very place, perhaps in awe of the centuries of knowledge surrounding him, perhaps feeling the weight of his own future pressing down on him. 

He made one sharp turn and there it was. 

The Eye of Agamotto was not as enticing to him as the Mind Stone or the Tesseract, but the power of an Infinity Stone was always seductive. But he could feel the various spells he that bound him to Asgard and to Thor tugging him away, not allowing him to give himself to any other power. How very interesting. 

He stepped closer, bending down to get a better look. 

“It takes a very powerful sorcerer to break through my wards,” a voice came from behind him. It was gentle and firm all at once, and Loki did not deign to look back. He knew who it was, he had felt her coming, and he recognized her seidr from the wards. 

“I broke nothing,” he replied. “Your wards are as strong as ever. In fact,” here, he turned on his heel with a flourish, “you may find I generously patched over your flaws and inadequacies with my own seidr.”

She merely looked at him. “You cannot take the Eye of Agamotto.”

“If I truly wanted it, you would not have caught me. I merely am here to...borrow it.”

She lifted an eyebrow and Loki slipped a sickly sweet smile onto his face. “You cannot _borrow_ the Eye of Agamotto.”

Loki lifted one hand and as if tearing down a curtain, ripped apart the seidr that had masked the Ancient One from seeing him using the Eye of Agamotto to attempt to see back through time. It was useless; he knew about the powers of the Time Stone and had read on it, along with asking Stephen about it, and had figured he would have the skill required to use it. He managed a bit of fumbling and could turn the passage of time, but only on very small objects.

Useless!

He was one of the most powerful seidrmadrs to come through Asgard in the past few thousand years, if not in the entire passage of time. He had cut his teeth on objects far more powerful than a single Infinity Stone. He routinely wore jewelry that was infused with more seidr and more history than whatever the Time Stone had seen. 

If he could not step back through time just for the moment needed to see what had happened to his home, then what purpose did he serve? If he could not _help_ , serve his duty, then what could he do? Just sit on his hands and help Steve with his little quest? Mortals were so _useless._

Loki tore apart the duplicate and snarled at the Ancient One, slashing his hand through the air before she could even begin to defend herself. He tore through the door he had left in Kamar-Taj’s wards and yanked himself through time and space and landed in the living room of their apartment, clenching his fists and shaking. 

Steve was standing in the kitchen, toweling his hair dry as he made himself a cup of coffee.

“Oh, back already?”

Loki bared his teeth and paced. His seidr was a wild animal beneath his skin, pressing at the weak points of his flesh, _begging—_

“Steven.”

Steve looked up from where he had taken a seat on the couch, balancing his cup of coffee on his knee as he picked up the book he had been reading the night before. “You alright?”

“I must...request something of you.”

“Sure, what is it?”

Loki took a deep, shuddering breath and took a step closer. They were friends, Steve would understand. Steve had seen how Loki needed it, needed to be below his betters. Steve would not judge him, would not ask questions, would not let him suffer. They had known each other through two or twenty or a thousand lives, in whatever countless number, in whatever proximity that they had been allowed. Steve would not deny him.

He came close enough to feel Steve’s body heat and it made his palms ache. “My friend…”

Steve reached out a hand for him and Loki could not stop himself. He was so weak. It had been two months since Thor had taken him in hand, had quieted him and his seidr, and he had grown complacent, used to the calm in his center, and Steve was dear to him. Even as he was different than the Loki in the time past, he was still meant to be lower to the ground than others. He had not been calmed after his kidnapping, not truly, and his seidr was a twisted riot in his chest. He could not stand it. He was so very weak.

The crack of his knees hitting the floor was so very loud.

Steve’s hand hung in the air as Loki creeped forward, head hung in shame. He was a kicked dog, a creature made of spite and submission, only good for being lesser than his betters.

“Please,” he whispered, and he pressed his forehead into Steve’s thigh. 

Strong fingers rested on his shoulder, and then slowly moved to the back of his neck, the tips of his fingers gently petting his skin. Loki quivered beneath him, and then let out a deep breath, going limp, leaning fully against Steve’s leg, squeezing his eyes shut. 

It was not as calming as it was with Thor, but Steve was doing his best, and had no seidr to press Loki to the floor and force quiet into him. But slowly, as Steve sipped as his coffee and paged through his book, the riot inside of him managed to settle. He wanted to tell Steve to use him as a table, to rest his cup on his head, to use him as a book stand, to crush his throat beneath his foot and spit on him. But he refrained. This would have to be good enough.

They sat in silence for awhile before Loki took another deep breath and scratched at Steve’s sweats over his calf. “It didn’t work,” he rasped, and tapped at his throat, swallowing down a bit of water he had spelled up. “I cannot go home.”

Steve’s hand moved up to push his hair away from his face, and Loki lifted his head to meet Steve’s gentle gaze. He felt ragged, run through a machine, as if he had been torn to pieces. “Is that where you went? Asgard?”

He shook his head. “I went...somewhere else. Where they have the Time Stone.” Steve’s hand tightened in his hair and something thrummed bright in Loki’s chest. “I did not take it. I only wished to use it to see what had happened. But I am weak—”

“Hey now,” Steve interrupted. “You mean to tell me that you didn’t master a massively powerful magical object in one try? Especially since I have to assume that you snuck in.”

Loki went to rise to his feet and Steve loosened his grasp momentarily before tightening it and holding him to his knees. He gasped and his seidr went completely still for a brief, blissful moment. 

“I don’t like doing this, but if you need it, we’re going to do it right. Stay there.” Steve readjusted his position on the couch and Loki summoned a glass of water for him. Steve raised an eyebrow at him and sipped from it before putting it on the coffee table. “You’ve been trying to get back to Asgard for two months. I think if there was any way in, you would’ve found it by now. For now, you’re here. With me. I don’t like it, but I think I know what that means.”

“If you dislike—”

“Shut up,” Steve said, amusement in his tone. “You know me better than that by now. Loki, you’re my friend. If you need this, whatever you call it, I’ll do it.”

“I am a being meant to live on my knees,” Loki informed him, and Steve shook his head.

“Nobody is meant to live like that. But if it helps,” Steve shrugged and trailed off. He was quiet for a few minutes, bringing up his hand to gently cradle Loki’s jaw in his palm, and then he looked down. “You know, I was thinking about something earlier. I remember, that last time, after you tried to invade Earth, Thor took you back to Asgard in chains. What was your punishment exactly?”

Loki frowned. “Five years.”

“That’s it?”

He raised an eyebrow and straightened from leaning against Steve’s leg. His clothes were wrinkled, and he brushed his fingers down the front of them. “What is your concern?” He sat back on his heels, leaning into the hand still holding his jaw. 

“Did they put...some spell on you? Is that why you’re like this?”

He smiled and Steve’s hand dropped from him. “My dear, no. I have been on my knees since I was only 100 years old. No spell that Odin or his council could place on me would stay for any longer than I wished. They merely put me in a cell. If Thor had not taken me out, I would have escaped sooner or later. But it was only five years. Five years in promised safety from my enemies? I had a far worse fate promised to me by Thanos.”

Steve leaned back against the couch and rubbed at his face. “Thor told me that the two of you were bound. He said something about an anchor bond but didn’t explain it any further than that. Is that why you need this?”

Nodding, Loki expounded, “The most powerful of our seidrmadrs cannot control their seidr without an anchor. Seidr can be likened to a monstrous ocean, something that is constantly pulling at you, attempting to drown you.”

“An abyss,” Steve muttered, and Loki smiled.

“You remember.”

Steve nodded, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “He nearly killed you. I remembered the lightning and watching him hurt you.” He shook his head. “I had a suspicion that you were lying about being bound to him for so long, and that it was some manner of punishment for trying to take over Earth.”

“I was not lying, but no, Odin would not have bound his sons together in some manner of punishment. He had never been in favor of our seidrmadr-anchor bond, but while Thor did wish to be in Odin’s favor, I was all that was able to calm him in his rages. So Odin was forced to accept our bond if he wished for his golden son to live. I cannot even imagine the reasonings for this thought of yours. What manner of punishment is an eternal bond of servitude?”

“Reparations maybe?” Steve shrugged, and he dropped his hands down, looking dourly at Loki. 

Loki merely raised an eyebrow and lifted himself to sit on the couch next to Steve. His seidr still ached, but it was calmer. “I was punished for my attempted takeover of your planet. Thor was able to halt the invasion, and my sentence was lessened greatly to only five years. If I had succeeded, but still been captured, my sentence would have been eternal.”

He remembered the first life, the one in which Thanos had crushed him in his hands, an ant beneath his boot, the yawning expanse of eternity stretching before him, stuck in that cell until he withered and passed into Hel. He would have escaped eventually, even if Thor had not broken him out to help avenge their mother. He smiled again, attempting to keep it kind. “You do not enjoy seeing me willingly going to my knees but you considered an eternal bond of forced servitude to be proper reparations?”

Steve grimaced. “Alright, guess I didn’t think that through.” He side-eyed Loki. “Is it really voluntary, for you to do that?”

“It is no less voluntary than involuntary.”

“That isn’t an answer,” Steve pointed out, and Loki rolled his eyes. “Tell me, Loki. I guess...if you want to, kneel in front of me, it just feels better if you want to. If you’re not being forced into it.”

“You will find it is very difficult to force me to do anything.” Loki leaned languorously against the arm of the couch, opening his legs and his body. It was automatic at this point, to open himself for whoever owned him, in whatever way they wanted him. “But yes, it is voluntary. I could have gone to a desolate place on Midgard and let my seidr overtake me until I was exhausted and spent and no more than a shell.”

“Or you could have knelt in front of me for a couple hours. Doesn’t seem like much of a choice.”

“I know the easier one to make.”

Steve sighed and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, dropping a hand down to rest on Loki’s calf. “You’re helping me, I’ll help you. What else are friends for?”

He did not seem to be seeking an answer, so Loki stayed quiet, examining Steve’s face in the low light. It was rare in the life that he had lived to meet someone so very honorable, with steadfast morals and an unconscionably rigid ethical code. There was a great deal of care in Steve’s heart, and it had somehow cracked open enough to let Loki in, let him see that there were people in the world who cared without expecting recompense. How very strange.

It was Loki’s instinct to take him apart, to tear Steve to pieces, to burrow into his depths to figure out what made him tick, but he stayed his place. Steve Rogers was dear to him. Hurting him would only hurt himself. 

“Dinner?”

Steve looked at him. “You’re paying.”

Loki slunk to his feet and helped Steve to his own, smoothing out Steve’s wrinkled clothes with his hands. “We will have to look far put together than we are now.” 

“Lead on,” Steve told him with a smile.

* * *

They happened upon Sam Wilson for the first time only a week later, in the early morning hours. Loki sent out a few sentries in various forms, and settled himself on a park bench with a book in his hand while Steve ran around and burned off steam. A magpie that Loki had sent out was the first to see him, and Loki waved Steve down the next time he came around, and Steve clapped him on the shoulder and tore off. Loki raised an eyebrow. Humans were so very peculiar. 

He went for a walk of his own when it took Steve longer than normal to make another lap. He found Steve and Sam Wilson talking beneath a tree, and Loki settled himself on the closest bench, looking back down at his book. 

Steve was a very poor actor. Very poor. He had allowed Loki to poke around in his head again and pull his prior memory of meeting his friend, and Loki had done his best to imprint on his friend the importance of staying true to what needed to happen. He had been bored by the conversation but now he wondered—Steve knew he could cast spells, then why not ask him to change the mattress? He would bring it up later.

“I’ll put it on the list.”

List? Loki had never seen a list. 

And then, of course, the Black Widow came up and Steve threw Loki a confused look before getting in the car. He stayed on the bench long enough for Sam to shake his head and look around, gaze landing unerringly on Loki.

He came closer. “Were you watching me?”

Loki merely tucked his book away and crossed his right leg primly over his left, leaning back against the bench. “Not you.”

Sam frowned but then shook his head. “Guess I can’t say anything, the guy’s incredible.” He gave Loki a hard look and then stuck out his hand in the strange Midgardian manner of greeting. “Sam Wilson.”

Loki gracefully pushed to his feet and gently slotted his hand into Sam’s. “Loki Odinson.”

Sam dropped his hand in surprise. “Oh! You’re the alien!”

Raising his eyebrows, Loki drawled, “I suppose you could call me that.” He looked pointedly around the park they were in. “I also suppose that you could say that your race is the aliens.” He met Sam’s warm gaze. “But it is all a manner of perspective.”

Sam pointedly looked over him and then nodded. “You never served in this man’s army, but same offer’s still open. Want to come by the VA?” He must’ve seen Loki’s confusion because he quickly elaborated, “Veterans Association. I help soldiers with PTSD.”

“I would be honored,” Loki purred, and a dark flush rose on Sam’s cheeks. “Lead on.”

Sam Wilson was surprisingly easy to talk to. He seemed to have no issue with showing Loki where his apartment was, as he needed to stop by there to change before heading to the VA. Sam asked about the battle of New York, as if the story of their exploits had not been in every paper and on every tv the very next day, but Loki merely smiled and obliged. It was not a great story, as Thor had killed Algrim before he could do much of anything, and Selvig had been incapacitated before any true damage could have been done, but Sam was still entranced. 

“Where is Thor, by the way? I heard you were both Kings or something.”

Loki stiffened. “He is...busy. I am on Earth to help protect it.”

“Alright, no more questions about Thor. Noted.” Sam offered him a bag of opened chips, and Loki regarded it with open disgust before taking a single chip. It was foul. He could taste the heavy preservatives, the falseness of it. It took every measure of strength in his body not to spit it onto the floor. Sam laughed at him and ate a few more. “You drink coffee?”

Loki looked around the small apartment and gingerly sat at Sam’s small kitchen table. “I prefer coffee with chocolate,” he acquiesced, and Sam nodded, bustling around the kitchen, humming under his breath. It took only a few minutes and then Sam handed him a mug, taking the seat next to him. 

“So you’re living with Steve Rogers, huh. What’s that like?”

He took a sip of the coffee before he answered and gave gracious thanks to his host. “More than adequate. It is no comparison to my royal quarters in Asgard, but Steve keeps me comfortable. He is very accommodating.” Loki glanced around. “If you desire, I can cast a spell on your bed so that it is not so uncomfortable.”

Sam leaned back in his chair. “So that’s real, the whole magic?”

Loki raised an eyebrow at the man. “You fly around on mechanical wings and just met a super-soldier, yet you discount the reality of magic?”

Laughing, Sam took a sip of coffee and then ran his hand over his face. “I guess you’re right. Here, my bed’s in there.” He pointed at the far door. Loki pushed to his feet and made the few steps across the small living room, the door opening without him touching it. 

“You do not wish to test out the bed? Or my spell?”

Sam gave him a strange look and his gaze flicked heavily over Loki’s long body. “I’m not going to be the guy who tries to get in bed with Captain America’s boyfriend,” he laughed, and Loki opened his mouth, and then closed it again. 

Well then.

He’d think about _that_ later.

Loki flicked his hand over Sam’s bed and spelled it to be at the occupant’s optimum comfort level before shutting the door behind him. “I will tell Steve of your honor,” he replied drolly back, and summoned his coffee from the table. Sam watched it float into Loki’s hands with wide eyes.

“What else can you do?”

“What do you wish to see?” 

Sam checked the watch on his wrist and jumped to his feet, taking his mug to the sink. “Let’s talk on the way.” Loki deposited his own cup in the sink, following Sam out of his apartment. “Let’s see.” Sam held the door open and Loki stepped out of the building and onto the busy street, following Sam down the sidewalk. 

“Can you fly? Turn invisible? What about making stuff appear out of thin air? Shapeshifting?” Sam paused for a breath and Loki cut in.

“Yes. I can also solidify air beneath my feet and walk upon that. I can cast a spell upon myself to make others not notice me, which is not quite invisibility. I can pull things out of small dimensions that I created. Shapeshifting is possible, but only to a specific degree.”

Sam nodded as if to say that was what he expected, sliding his hands into his pockets as he strolled along. “What about mind reading? Hey, aren’t you the God of Mischief? Do some mischief.”

“As you command,” Loki drawled, and he flicked an invisible bit of seidr across the busy street to knock over a hotdog cart. The proprietor accused a man that had just bought a hotdog from him for knocking it over, and it quickly turned into a screaming match, with people picking up the dropped food and running off with it. Sam watched in stunned silence and then rubbed the back of his neck and pulled Loki along.

“How about no more mischief,” he muttered, and Loki grinned.

“What else do you wish to know?”

Sam thought for a moment as they turned down another street. “What’s war like on Asgard?”

Finally, an interesting question. Loki actually considered his answer. “We are a species that flourishes under strife and in wartime. We claim to be in a time of peace, but I spent my first few hundred years being trained to fight, and then my brother, his friends, and I were enforcers for the King. I was raised with stories of valor in battle, and it is a common belief that peace after death can only come with a heroic death in battle. As such, war is bloody, and violent. Nobody wants to die, but it is accepted and even desired in battle. I have seen people run to certain death because they wished to enter the halls of Valhalla. It is a brutal life.”

They stopped outside the Veterans Association building, and Loki looked over to see Sam regarding him with a somber look on his face. Loki continued, “Your wars are against your own species. Thus, you only have the abilities of your own kind to contend with. Asgard fights against different races, all with various powers and weaknesses. Every fight is different, because every enemy is different. I have been fighting for my life, and for my Realm, in one way or another, for over one thousand years. War is a way of life.”

Sam nodded and reached out to pat Loki on the shoulder. “If you don’t mind, I have some people I want to introduce you to.”

Loki acquiesced, following Sam inside, and was pulled into a whirlwind of survivors, listening to story after story of grief and pain and loss, and he shared a few of his own. He found himself in the middle of a circle of traumatized soldiers, weaving an intricate story of how he and Thor had personally defeated a threat from Musphelheim. It was only a small band of twenty of the fire giants, but Loki was weak against fire, and he had to fight under a curse one of their seidrmadrs had put upon him. But Thor had been furious and had leveled half of the giants with a great burst of lightning and a massive blow from Mjolnir, and Loki had roused enough of his strength to finish the giants off.

The soldiers were all impressed, and they shared some of their own war stories. But none of them revelled in the violence as Asgardians did. It was the price of standing up for what they believed in, but it was not an added bonus. Killing their own kind did not come easy to humans. They had a different sanctity of life. How very interesting.

Sam slipped up next to him and rested his hand on Loki’s shoulder, squeezing it before taking the seat next to him. “I can see what Captain America sees in you,” he muttered, and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “You really can spin a tale, can’t you.”

Loki glanced over him. “I can swear to you that my tale was true,” he replied, and he tried to keep the mockery out of his tone.

“Sure it was, but it wasn’t all the truth.”

No, it wasn’t. He hadn’t included that the fire giants had been seeking sanctuary from war on their own realm, and Odin had him and Thor kill them instead of granting it. “I included the relevant information,” he relented, and Sam gave him a searching look before shrugging. 

“Next up I got a group meeting. It’s similar to this, but a bit more structured. You interested? You don’t have to say anything.”

It was either Sam or going back to the empty apartment and waiting for Steve to return. He thought for a moment of returning to Stark Tower and antagonizing some of the Avengers, but he had a suspicion that his presence was mostly tolerated because of Steve’s support. He had no true desire to alienate his only allies on this plane. Loki acquiesced, following Sam out of the room and down the hall, to a smaller and darker room, with a few rows of chairs set up. Loki took a seat in the back, pulling a journal out of his library, and he spent a few minutes writing down notes from his day and also ideas on how he and Steve could stay in touch if they were ever separated again. 

A few minutes later, quiet people began filtering in. Sam knew some of them, greeting them heartily, and then they got down to business. Various people came up and told of how many tours they had served, in what squad or something similar, and who they had lost. Loki stayed quiet. He had had no friends to lose when he fought, only Thor, only his own life. Now he had friends to lose.

Sam spoke about losing his wingman from an RPG, whatever that was, and how he had a difficult time understanding his purpose in war, and how he had found it again helping people. Sam spoke with a few of the soldiers as the meeting finished, and then it was just the two of them. 

Sam shrugged at him and kicked a chair over closer to Loki. “How’d you feel about that?”

Loki regarded him with faint amusement. “I find myself surprised about the openness of your culture. It is not common on Asgard to share your trauma with anyone other than your closest friends or your spouse. Does the anonymity help?”

“I think we’re just starting to move away from a similar cultural belief, but yeah, being anonymous helps. It can be harder to tell someone you care about that you saw your best friend step on a IED and turn into pink mist. But that’s what we signed up for, I guess.” He stood up and anxiously paced around for a moment. “What was the worst thing?”

He thought for a moment. He had to lie, of course. He could not pinpoint his very worst memory, as there were too many to count, but the ones that counted upon the worst were not in war. They were in the quiet of his own bedroom, or out in their mother’s garden, or hidden out in the trees, where Thor knew he was stronger and could pin him down until he no longer knew how to fight. 

“We were in war against Vanaheim. Vanir are similar in nature to Aesir, but we are stronger and more powerful on the ground. They oft have more seidrmadrs, but our soldiers have always been talented at finding them and taking them out when it is most unexpected. We came to an agreement, to a truce.

“The agreement included ten years of culture exchange, in terms of sending a member or two of their Realm to live in the other. I was one of the two chosen to live in Vanaheim. My parents believed it would be beneficial for espionage, as I could learn of their culture and gain their trust. Of course, things often work out against well-laid plans. I had history with the high courts of Vanaheim, and they were not fond of me.

“I was imprisoned in a great tree for nine of those ten years. I spent the first few months within the courts, where they could keep an eye on me, but I was...antagonistic. So their seidrmadrs overpowered me while I was sleeping and hid me away.”

Sam looked absolutely horrified. Loki inclined his head to the man and continued, “I was released with four months left of my sentence. I suffered for nearly a decade and not even a year after I was sent home, Odin went to war with the Vanir again.”

It took Sam nearly a minute to reply. “When Riley died, I couldn’t do anything. I was powerless. We were flying, and the RPG came out of nowhere. I felt like I was just up there to watch.”

“Powerlessness is truly discomfiting,” Loki mused, and he went to his feet to pace around the room. 

“What you doin’ now?” Sam queried after a minute, managing to pull Loki out of working himself into a fit. “Dinner, back to the apartment?”

“I suppose I will go back to our apartment.” Loki paused and looked down at Sam, who was leaning back in his chair in an attempt to be casual. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

Sam grinned at him. “Sure will. Run every morning, then back here to help folks. Feel free to stop by.”

Loki nodded and then gave Sam grave thanks, spreading his seidr out to grab onto the wards he had placed around their apartment. He yanked, stepped through time and space, and landed in their living room. It was empty, but there was a note on the refrigerator. 

_Called on a mission._

_It’s beginning._

_-SGR_

He pressed the note to his skin and watched the text sink down.


	8. CH8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a day late! not much plot advancement here i don't think, but this chapter does have one of my favorite lines i've ever written in it. enjoy!

It took three days for Steve to return to him. Loki spent the time mostly alone, reorganizing his pocket dimensions and examining and strengthening the wards. He tried and retried every method he could think of to reach Thor and Asgard. He met Sam once for a morning run, and again for a brief lunch. He was very loyal, very quickly. Loki enjoyed his company, much to his surprise, given that he so rarely enjoyed the company of anyone.

He was in a light doze on the couch, wearing linens and one of Steve’s shirts, when the front door opened. Loki jerked to his feet, a burst of seidr already forming in his fists, but then Steve tiredly grinned at him and Loki was already wrapping his arms around the man. Steve hugged him back, just as tight. 

“I missed you,” Steve grumbled into his hair, shutting the door behind him and tugging Loki towards the couch. They leaned together, Steve keeping his arms around Loki’s shoulders. “We need to figure out a better way to communicate than the ravens. I tried a few times but they never came.”

“Ah yes. Since Asgard is closed, so is its communication.” Loki curled into Steve’s side, tucking his head into Steve’s neck. “I suppose I will have to get one of those _phones_.”

“Natasha told me that she saw you sitting in the park when she picked me up. You could’ve come with.”

Loki shrugged elegantly. “I spent time with Sam Wilson. Far more interesting than whatever government mission you were on. I will happily join you in future missions, of course. It will save me from languishing away.”

Steve chuckled and the tension he had been holding in his body seeped out. They stayed curled together for awhile before Loki delicately cleared his throat and slipped off the couch, resting his forehead on Steve’s thigh. Gentle fingers pet through his hair. 

“What do you remember next?”

“The museum.” Steve cleared his throat. “Then I go see Peggy. My memory of it all is pretty poor but I remember that. And then SHIELD...they’re HYDRA, they have been ever since it was instituted. We have to find Bucky.” He was getting almost frantic, and Loki flicked his fingers, casting a mild soothing charm. Steve leaned his head back against the couch and breathed deeply, staring up the ceiling. It took him a moment to realize he was digging his fingers into Loki’s scalp, and he shook his hand out of Loki’s hair with a quick apology. 

“I would offer that you can hit me if if would make you feel better, but I can only imagine your morals would prevent such an action.” Steve rolled his eyes and Loki smirked. “We can figure all of that out tomorrow.”

Steve yawned and nodded. “We’ll get you a phone, too.” He pulled Loki to bed. Loki quickly stripped both of them and then curled up on Steve’s chest. 

“Sam Wilson believes that you and I are in a relationship.”

Steve blinked a few times. “Huh. What’d you say to that?”

“I found myself quite unable to explain that we are both technically currently single, but that our hearts do belong to people we will come across in the future. So no, I did not say anything.”

Steve thought for awhile, gently tapping his fingers on the bare skin at Loki’s waist. “Natasha also asked me about our relationship. People keep thinking I’m lonely.”

“Are you not?”

“I have a God in my bed.” Steve chuckled. “I can’t imagine it would be difficult to pin you down and really _have_ you if I wished. But no, I’m not lonely. I miss—I miss people. But that doesn’t mean I’m lonely.”

Loki slid off Steve’s chest, propping his chin up on the man’s stomach. For a moment, he thought about stepping into a future with with Steve Rogers. It would be comfortable, and Steve was attractive. But then he thought of what they would both be missing—Stephen, for one, and he would always be second in Steve’s heart. He considered it. Perhaps it was his own loneliness from being cut off from Asgard and Thor, or his own desperation from missing Stephen, but he did consider it. He could not disregard one future without considering all of his options. Perhaps it would be a way to endear Steve even further to him, to gain even more of the great Captain’s trust.

His Stephen did not exist yet. Dr. Strange was still practicing surgery, but he was not the man that Loki had loved, not yet. Dozens of futures were possible; it was entirely likely that Stephen would never run off the road and go to Kamar-Taj. Unlikely, but possible.

Sex was not something that ever meant much to Loki. He was fully willing to use his body to get what he wanted, whether Thor knew about it or not. 

That was the thought that stopped him from offering himself, in the end. The seidr of the bonds between them would not allow Loki to open himself without permission. He did consider that the strength of the bonds were severely weakened with his distance from Asgard, and he decided to check on that later. “I am not allowed to sleep with anyone without my King’s permission,” he finally said, and Steve just chuckled at him. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve assured him.

Loki frowned at him in the dark. “Once I regain contact, you may ask Thor for permission, if you desire. He respects you enough—”

“Loki,” Steve sternly interrupted him, and he moved over Loki so that he was pressing Loki back into the furs. “You don’t need to offer yourself up. It’s fine. It’s all fine. I’ll keep you around even if you don’t have sex with me.”

“I merely wished to repay you for your kindness,” Loki attempted.

Steve crashed back onto the bed, pulling Loki up onto his chest again. “We’re friends. You help me get Bucky back and you’ll never owe me anything again.”

Loki was asleep before he could say anything in return. 

The next morning, they dressed quickly, Steve tossing a couple jokes about Loki wearing his shirt the day before. To make a point, Loki pulled on a black shirt with Steve’s shield emblazoned on the front, causing Steve to let out a surprised laugh. He paired it with black jeans tucked into black boots, and a black coat. Steve was as boring as ever, wearing a white shirt with khakis, and a blue coat with a blue hat. How mundane.

Steve elected for them to walk to the Smithsonian, the two of them enjoying the temperate day. They both ignored the SHIELD agents that followed them. HYDRA was nearing its end, and Loki wondered if they could sense it. But it was a pleasant walk. Part of the way there, Steve reached over and took Loki’s hand in his own.

“Just go with it,” he muttered, and Loki smirked. 

“As you wish,” he replied, and Steve rolled his eyes. 

“We watched that movie together, you know. I know what you’re referencing.”

Loki merely smiled. A few people recognized them, and he quietly offered to make them unnoticeable, but Steve denied it. “I have a plan,” he told Loki, bringing up his free hand to lift Loki’s hair off his neck. They waited at the crosswalk, Loki looking down into Steve’s eyes, slipping his arm around Steve’s waist. Steve leaned close as they crossed the street, Steve leading them into a small coffee shop. The SHIELD agents entered a few minutes later, and Loki tapped the table, putting up a small ward so that the agents could not overhear them. 

Steve brought him a coffee, taking the seat across the small table. “We good to talk?”

“Of course.”

“We’re going to be in a relationship.” The words fell out of Steve’s mouth like vomit. Loki merely raised an eyebrow. A plan indeed. “Like you said, we can’t explain Stephen and Buck to anyone. But I gotta stop the questions, and explain why we’re living together, why you’re coming on these missions with me, why I’m taking you to see Peggy, for example. I don’t want to go on a date with Kristen from Statistics.”

He thought about it for a moment. “You wish, instead, to go on a date with Loki, the God of Mischief?” What a _scheme._ He was reluctantly impressed. His mind spun, already spilling out with how this could be used to his advantage, how continuing to earn Steve’s loyalty would help him in his plan to tear Thor into pieces. 

Steve smiled slightly and leaned back in his chair. “Honestly? Yeah, I do. We have differences of opinions in a lot of things, but we work together well. You’re not going to go against me, I know that.”

“You trust me,” Loki mused. What a surprise Steve was turning out to be. He enjoyed this version far more than the last.

“I trust you with Bucky.”

Loki leaned back in his own chair and blinked down at his coffee cup. “Well then. I will admit I do not know what to say to that.” He looked up at Steve through his lashes. “I must admit to being honored, my Captain.”

“We both know you’ve never been honored in your life.” Well, it wasn’t like he was wrong.

And with that, Steve reached across the table and tugged Loki forward. Before their lips met, Loki dropped the ward, and he smiled into the kiss as the SHIELD agents scattered.

He had expected that kissing Steve Rogers would be life changing, that he would lean away from the super-soldier with a new outlook on life, that something deep within him would be cleansed. Instead, it was just a dry brush of lips, Loki opening obediently beneath him, but Steve pulled away before the kiss could go deeper.

They finished their coffees and then finished the walk to the Smithsonian, hand in hand.

* * *

Fake dating Steve Rogers was easy, Loki found. Their first date, as it were, was Steve seeing his own exhibit in a museum. While Steve angsted over Bucky— _inseparable on both the schoolyard and the battlefield; the only Howling Commando to give his life in the service of his country_ —Loki drifted away to the gift shop, where he pilfered some Captain America memorabilia, including a small replica of the famous shield that fit in the palm of his hand. He rejoined Steve in front of a picture of Captain America, and slipped Steve’s phone out of his pocket. He bodily moved Steve so that he was standing in front of the biggest picture of himself, and fiddled with the phone until he pulled up the camera application.

He took a few pictures of them, a few of them that had Steve exasperatingly rolling his eyes at Loki’s shenanigans, and then one where they were both smiling, and then a final one where Steve was kissing his cheek. He found that the phone was easy to figure out, and he was even more insistent that he get one.

Steve was quiet, but he led Loki to an Apple Store, where Loki picked out a gold iPhone, and then they went to a carrier store, where Steve, who was the only legal citizen out of the two of them, activated the phone and got a number for it. They found a small bistro, where Steve ordered sandwiches for the two of them while Loki figured out how to set up an Instagram account. He posted the pictures of them and then rooted through Steve’s phone for the numbers he felt he would need, saving the Widow’s number, along with Stark’s. 

“If you wish to talk about him, I will listen,” Loki offered, as he paged through Instagram accounts. They were in a small booth, and Loki was against the wall, their thighs pressed together. 

“I just...I miss him. I know this next year or two is going to be rough, really rough. I guess I was just thinking that if I had to pick anyone else, I’m glad you’re going to go through it with me.”

Loki briefly looked up from his phone, genuinely touched. “I would not wish to be anywhere else,” he replied, and to his surprise, he meant it. Even as much as he dearly missed his brother, as much as every breath without Thor was painful, he could not leave Steve, not now. He leaned into Steve’s side as he continued to figure out his new phone, Steve finishing both of their meals and paying the server, who awkwardly hung around then then shyly asked for both of their autographs.

Steve grudgingly obliged and Loki, who had never had to _autograph_ anything in his life, signed his first name with a flourish. The young man thanked them with tears in his eyes and then glanced around, leaned forward, and told them that seeing gay superheroes was the representation he had wanted all his life, and then he nearly ran off.

Steve waited until the kid was out of earshot before he grumpily told Loki, “I’m bisexual.”

“When we are invariably accosted by your Midgardian press in order to antagonize us about our relationship, I will surely inform them that I am the gayer of the two of us, and that I am also sexier.”

Steve, who had just gotten out of the booth, turned back and frowned down at Loki, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m definitely sexier.”

Loki glanced over Steve’s body, as over muscular and broad as it was, and he merely smiled. “I am attractive enough that the great and famous Captain America stopped his relentlessly heterosexual lifestyle. I was able to pull an American icon into sodomy. I am very clearly the sexier of the two of us.”

Steve helped Loki out of the booth and quickly checked it over to make sure they hadn’t left anything before escorting Loki out of the restaurant, one of his wide hands on the small of Loki’s back. “I embody the perfect human form. I managed to be attractive enough to get an actual alien to stop cavorting across the universe, stopping in however many beds.”

“For all I know, Captain America fucked his way across Germany in his quest to defeat HYDRA.”

That got a few scandalized looks as they exited the restaurant and a deep laugh from Steve. “Better than fucking your way across the galaxy.”

“Not the entire galaxy! Only the Nine Realms.”

Steve laughed again, slinging his arm across Loki’s shoulders. “You know, now I’m curious. Just how many people have you slept with?” 

“I expect your answer as well,” Loki replied, as he thought about it. “Thor was always resistant to the idea of me actually having sex, and was often violent in his response to any of my paramours. So not very many. Fifty, perhaps? Maybe 100?”

“Fifty!”

Loki frowned, looking over at Steve. “Is that not many for Midgard? Thor had a time when sleeping with fifty maidens was a slow month for him.”

“I don’t know if I even know fifty people,” Steve mused. “But I guess that’s a lot. I don’t know about nowadays, sure, but that would’ve been a lot in my time.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I’ve got three.”

“Bucky is one, of course. The other two?” Steve led them down a road, the hospital looming in the distance. Loki could feel the nervousness in the Captain’s body.

“Buck, yeah. One was somewhere in Germany, after he fell. Some dame in a bar off a military base. She had this dark hair, and broad shoulders, and she spoke enough French that we could almost understand each other. The other was right after they brought me out of the ice, a waitress who didn’t recognize me. I, uh, had sex with her in a bathroom. But no one other than that.”

Loki made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “I do not know the sexual customs on this Realm, of course, but Asgard is fairly sexually open. For instance, bisexuality and homosexuality have no bearing on someone’s worth. Thor, for instance, occasionally has slept with men, and the only repercussion from that was a vague reminder from Odin and Frigga that he could not continue the royal line if he married a man. Of course, he could take a surrogate and sire children through her, but questions would be asked. He could marry a woman and have a male lover on the side.”

Steve interrupted, “What about you? You’re gay, what did your parents say about that?”

He thought about it for a moment, running through 1500 years of history in his mind. “Frigga never mentioned it. Odin took me aside once to express vague disapproval at my life choices, but I am not the first in line to the throne, and therefore not my responsibility. Of course, all of that is moot now.”

“Why’s that?”

Loki looked askance at him. “Thor did everything other than formally take me as his spouse when he was crowned. He has made it clear that I come before anyone in his life.”

“How so?”

“The bond of hylli that we share...it is nearly a marriage bond. It is not courtesy to my King that I tell you that I cannot have a sexual relationship without consulting my King; seidr binds me to him. The only manner in which our bond could be tightened is a marriage spell, and that would be only slightly more powerful. We have been soul bound since we were very young, and anything more than that only binds us irrevocably tighter.”

“Can you soul bind other people?”

Loki thought on that question for a minute. “Are you asking if I can see if two people are soulmates?”

Steve refused to look at him. “Something like that.”

“When we find him, I can do my best.”

Steve brought his hand up and clasped the back of Loki’s neck. It was instinct; tension immediately fled his body and he leaned heavily against Steve’s side. 

“Are soulmates real?”

“Of a sort. Certain people are meant to be together. Thor and I, for example, have intertwined destinies. It is more common on Asgard, as we live far longer than your race. However, I cannot imagine that you and your Bucky would be anything other than soulmates.”

Steve squeezed the back of his neck but didn’t answer. They came upon the hospital just a minute later, Loki hanging back as Steve asked where he could find Peggy Carter, and they were quickly shown to her room.

Loki, doing his best to play the part of supportive boyfriend, sat in an empty chair on the far side of the room as Steve and Peggy talked. He continued exploring his new phone, and he used a bit of seidr to steal Steve’s out of his pocket. After Steve and Peggy spoke, Steve reassuring her that she was ‘his best girl’, Steve turned to Loki and waved him close.

Loki hovered over the side of her bed, looking down at the crippled woman before him. Age of this sort was not often seen on Asgard, as people often died before their bodies truly failed them. Humans were such peculiar creatures.

“Bucky?” she rasped, and she reached a hand up for him.

The look on Steve’s face was true heartbreak. “No,” he told her, if she could even understand him. “This is my...partner, Loki. He’s from Asgard.”

She whispered something about Bucky coming back to them before she fell into a deep slumber, and Loki looked to Steve to figure out what he should do. “I really did love her,” Steve told him, and then suddenly, he turned to Loki, his gaze fierce. “Can’t you do something? Make her live longer? Fix her?”

Loki took a step back, his hands in the air. “I cannot practice untested seidr on a human, Steve. You would not want me to experiment, especially not on her.”

Steve regarded him darkly for a minute before sighing and nodding, reaching out and slinging his arm around Loki’s waist. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive,” Loki murmured, leaning into Steve’s side as they watched Peggy sleep for a few minutes, before a nurse bustled in and told them that visiting hours were almost over. Steve quietly wished Peggy luck and thanked the nurse before escorting Loki out.

They left the hospital in silence, Steve clearly thinking about his past. Loki, who never considered himself a source of comfort, stayed quiet. They made the long walk back to the apartment without speaking, Steve staying pensive as he thought. Once they got back to the apartment, Steve went to prepare dinner for the two of them, and Loki reclined on the couch, pulling his Captain America souvenirs out of a pocket dimension and laying them all out on the coffee table. His favorite was the small shield that matched the one that Steve kept in the closet.

From the kitchen, Steve told him, “Tomorrow, I go to the VA, and Nick Fury comes here. Can he get through your spells?”

“If he does not wish you harm, then yes. Do you wish me to meet him here, or go with you to see Sam Wilson?”

Steve looked back at him from whatever he was cooking. “You...you can make your own decisions, you know. You don’t have to do whatever I want.”

Loki scoffed. “I can entertain myself well enough, _Captain_. I merely enjoy your presence, and I am here to further both of our goals.”

He left the food cooking in the kitchen and came into the living room, standing in front of Loki with his arms crossed over his chest. “I trust you,” he told Loki. Loki turned away from him. “But is this just amusement for you until you can get back to Thor? I know what you’re doing.”

“I told you, Captain, I _choose_ to be with you. You think that the only place I can go is Asgard?” Loki surged to his feet, seidr crackling around him. “I can go anywhere in the entire galaxy. In the great expanse of time, you are nothing. You are merely a human that has lived a bit longer than the rest of them. I am a God. I have given myself to you, and you scorn me? I am my own and you claim me to be anything but?” He raised his hands and green seidr burst from them, and behind that, a black haze overtook him. “You believe that you have suffered? Would you like to experience the pain of one year of my ancient existence?” He shouted through the darkness surrounding him, turning around to see if Steve was anywhere near him. 

“Loki,” Steve called, and his voice came as if far away. A hand pushed through the dark and pressed on his shoulder. He recognized the motion from so many years of serving Thor, and dropped to his knees. “Come back to me.”

“Brother,” he cried out, still lost in the dark haze. “You swore you would not leave me, yet I am alone.” He turned again. “You left me! I am Loki without hope, Loki who lives alone. You promised I would never live another moment without you, yet you have closed yourself from me, shut me from my home, left me on this rotten planet to die.” How dare his brother do this to him! How dare he scorn Loki from his only home, leave him to rot. Thor would pay for what he had done. Loki would grind him to dirt.

“I’m here,” Steve called, across a thousand years of history, and Loki gasped, crawling through the darkness to curl around Steve’s feet. 

“He has left me,” Loki sobbed, pressing his forehead to Steve’s feet. “I have nothing left.”

Steve went to his knees next to him, and Loki went prone, gagging when Steve brushed his hands across Loki’s neck and shoulders. “I know he left you. But I haven’t. I don’t know long I’ll live, be it 50 or 500 years, but if he never comes back, I’ll spend all of it with you.” Steve took a deep breath. “I promise.”

Loki lifted his head from the floor as the black haze around him slowly receded. “He left,” he gasped, and he lifted himself enough to be on his knees before Steve. “I am nothing without him.”

Warm hands wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him half into Steve’s lap. “Am I nothing? Do you not exist now?”

“He kept me bound to the earth, to the very ground. I cannot exist—”

“You have existed! You are a person without him. You’re _enough_.” A gentle hand pet through his hair and Loki gasped, twisting his head back to look into deep blue eyes. “If he has left you, then I will take you. You’re mine.”

“You swear?”

Steve leaned closer, his warm breath passing across Loki’s face. “I swear on my soul.”

Loki sobbed, pressing closer to Steve, slipping his hands underneath his shirt and digging his fingernails into skin. “I cannot exist without belonging to someone,” he whispered, and Steve twisted his hand into Loki’s hair, cradling his skull.

“Then you belong to me, until he takes you back.” Steve’s voice was no more than a whisper, but it was strong, and Loki, against all odds, believed him, and felt his truth deep in his gut. Steve Rogers would care for him until Thor returned for him, if that ever happened, and then after...Steve would care for him still.

He pulled away, breathing heavily as he met Steve’s sincere gaze. “You swear?” he repeated, and Steve reached out for him.

“You’re mine,” Steve promised him, and Loki went to pieces in his lap. As Steve pet his hair, Loki wiped away his tears, and he smiled to himself. He grew ever closer to achieving his goals, and he now had the added bonus of Steve Rogers in his corner. He could feel Thor’s defeat on his hands almost as if it was a physical object he could hold, feel the weight of his own betrayal in his fingers.

In the kitchen, their meal burned.


	9. CH9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one is so short, folks! next one is longer. we're really getting into it now

Loki cooked breakfast for them the next morning, and Steve leaned back in his chair, chin in his hand, as he watched the god. Loki never touched anything himself, using his magic instead to move pans around and open the fridge and chop up ingredients. He'd slept through the night, but Loki looked like he hadn't slept a wink. He considered asking, if it was nightmares or something else, but didn't want to tense up the strangely gentle mood between them; Loki tended into overly antagonistic if his mental health was brought into question.

He enjoyed Loki’s company. He was smart, and even funny on occasion, and he was so different now that Thor wasn’t around. Steve had seen HYDRA weapons, and had been friends with Howard Stark, who was smart enough to very nearly be a magician on his own. But he had never seen anything like what Loki was capable of. And Loki commanded such power with such ease, and if he needed to be on his knees in front of Steve for however long, then he supposed he could give that to him. 

He knew Loki was planning something. He didn’t know if being unable to go back to Asgard was a ruse or part of whatever he was planning, but Steve hadn’t been lying when he’d said that he trusted Loki. He knew it had something to do with Thor, and perhaps the bonds that bound the two of them. He would help if asked.

Loki floated over a plate for him, and Steve looked down at it with a small frown. “I was expecting bacon and eggs, or boiled potatoes,” he muttered, and he could _feel_ Loki roll his eyes at him. Loki dropped another plate across the table from him and took his seat.

“It is pan-seared boar strips with a cream sauce, and buttered dark bread with berries. The day-meal is usually _skenkja_ , or served with drink, so I can bring you whatever you wish.”

Steve took a few bites and then just asked for water. He watched Loki twist one of his hands in the air, and a tall glass of water slipped through the air and landed gently on the table in front of him. Steve leaned back in his seat. “You enjoy this.”

Loki finished chewing and swallowed his food with a long sip of whatever he had in his chalice before looking over at Steve. “I do beg your pardon,” he hedged. 

“Doing things for other people. You act like you’re above everyone else, and maybe you are, but you _like_ it.”

Loki merely looked at him. “I have lived on my knees for over a thousand years. Either I would kill myself or I would grow to enjoy it.” They ate in silence for a few minutes, Steve finding himself thoroughly enjoying what Loki had made for them. Finally, Loki continued, “I tried for centuries to get out from Thor’s shadow. I tried _everything_. I finally convinced myself that I could be happy there.”

“And now?” Steve kept his gaze on his plate as he dragged a bite of meat through the thick sauce. 

He could hear the dark smile in Loki’s voice. “Oh, my dear, I have _plans._ But fear not, none will come to harm.”

He looked up. “As long as you’re fine,” he finally said, and he met Loki’s gaze. Loki smirked at him. “You are fine, right?”

Loki leaned back in his seat and smoothed down the front of his shirt. It was one he had stolen from Steve, as were most of his clothes. “Unless you intend on tossing me out on my back end, I am _very_ fine, my Captain,” he purred, and Steve just grinned at him and then shook his head.

“Might toss you out on your front end if you keep up like that,” Steve muttered, and Loki smirked, tossing his hair over his shoulder and clearing his plate. Steve liked watching him eat. Loki ate like no one else Steve had seen before; every movement was quiet and dainty, delicate even. He ate how Steve imagined a Prince would eat. 

Loki waited until Steve was finished and then flicked his hand and their plates darted off into the kitchen, where all the dishware loaded itself into the dishwasher and the kitchen was quickly cleaned up. “What next?” Loki asked, leaning across the table to steal Steve’s glass of water and draining it. 

“I go to the VA.” Steve rubbed at his forehead and shook his head. “I still don’t have an answer to his question, you know.”

“What question?” Loki queried, and he did some twisting magic with his hands and pulled a small box out of the air. Steve raised his eyebrow as Loki opened the box and dug through it, and then began painting his fingernails a dark green, but then he shrugged to himself. It was good to see Loki becoming more comfortable around him, and if this was how Loki showed that, then Steve was glad for it. 

“He asked me last time what makes me happy.”

Loki made a curious sound but didn’t look up from watching the polish spread itself across his nails. He flashed Steve a small smile. “I am at your service.”

“Are you saying I should—”

“I’m _very_ good in bed, Captain,” Loki interrupted with another smile. He was trying to look innocent, Steve could tell, but he knew Loki too well for that. 

He leaned back in his chair and stopped himself from crossing his arms over his chest. “You want me to tell Sam Wilson that my dick in your ass is one of the things to make me happy.”

Loki looked entirely too pleased with himself. “I am merely giving you the option, my Captain.”

Steve just shook his head, unable to stop the smile from crossing his face. “You’re really something else, Loki.” He met Loki’s gaze across the table as the god finished painting his nails and vanished the box, waving his hands through the air to dry his nails. “Are you going to come with?”

He languishly shrugged one shoulder, looking at Steve through his lashes. “I did enjoy my time with him. He’s a very kind and loyal man.” He continued waving his hands through the air and slowed after a minute of silence between the two of them. “I have noticed how you seem to inspire great loyalty in your compatriots.”

“I got you, didn’t I? I could probably get just about anyone in the galaxy after you.”

Loki shrugged again, his movements fluid. He got up and stalked across the kitchen to their bedroom, Steve watching him go. He knew Loki was an alien, but something about the way he moved was truly inhuman. It was too sinuous, too smooth. He moved like water.

Steve followed Loki to their bedroom and they both changed. Loki summoned his phone so he could take a few shirtless pictures of Steve and he posted them on Instagram with some suggestive caption. Loki was apparently becoming more comfortable with staying on Earth, as he dressed in skin-tight black leggings with his knee-high black Asgardian boots, along with a tight dark green long-sleeved shirt. He layered on a gold necklace and jeweled rings and then spent a few minutes spreading oil over his hair. Steve grabbed both of their phones and left Loki to it, checking through the pictures Loki had posted. 

He didn’t know how many comments or ‘likes’ were customary, but nearly 15,000 on the picture of Steve kissing Loki’s cheek at the Smithsonian? Surely that had to be far more than normal. The hearts and comments were already pouring in on the picture of Steve from that morning, where he was in the middle of pulling off his shirt, arms over his head and muscles clearly on display. Behind him, the bed was unmade, and two people had clearly slept in it the night before. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. The fake relationship had been his idea, after all. He couldn’t blame Loki for taking advantage of that for the attention he apparently so dearly wanted. 

Loki flounced out of the bedroom a few minutes later and snatched his phone out of Steve’s hand, tapping through the screens. Steve grabbed his keys and herded Loki out of the apartment. Loki looked unimpressed at Steve’s motorcycle but climbed on behind him, sliding as close to Steve as he possibly could, his long arms winding around Steve’s waist.

It wasn’t uncomfortable to have Loki so close to him. It was nice, actually, Steve found. He was a comforting presence, and would have been even if they weren’t headed into such times of strife. He would have wanted Loki with him even if they were living in times of peace, even if Steve was no longer a soldier, no longer following the cry inside him that demanded he fight for what was right and good in the world until he could no longer draw breath. 

The motorcycle ride to the VA cleared his head, and Loki’s arms tight around his waist cleared his heart. He hadn’t lied when he had promised Loki he would keep him until he died. He did truly care for the god. Sometimes it felt like they had been somehow destined to be together, with how easily they fit together, how comfortably Loki had fit into his life and his arms and his bed. 

God, he missed Bucky.

He shook that thought out of his head as he parked his motorcycle, Loki sliding off like a snake and shaking out his hair, running his fingers through it as if he could manage to tame it. Steve slung his arm around Loki’s waist, Loki tucking himself into Steve’s side, pulling out his phone to tap through it again. Steve asked the lady at the front desk where Sam Wilson’s counseling session was, and she clearly recognized them, Loki shooting her a wink as they walked away. 

Loki decided to hang out in the hallway as Steve went inside. There was no one around but Steve still pressed a kiss to Loki’s cheek before ducking in, waving at Sam as he took a seat in the back of the room.

“Some stuff you leave there, other stuff you bring back. It's our job to figure out how to carry it. Is it gonna be in a big suitcase or in a little man-purse? It's up to you.” Well damn.

It was only a few minutes later that Sam wrapped up and Steve ducked outside, meeting Loki, who was leaning casually against a wall, eyes still locked on his phone. 

“Well, if it isn’t the running man.”

Steve turned and gave Sam a tired, relieved grin. It was the same conversation they’d had before, in that half-remembered haze of a life, but it still felt new. This was a different Sam Wilson than Steve remembered. It was a Sam who was charismatic enough to get Loki’s attention again, and Loki smirked at him, slipping his phone into his pocket as Sam gave him a one-armed hug. Loki followed their conversation with his dark, flickering eyes, giving Steve a small half-smile when Sam said the number of people giving him orders was down to zero.

“But seriously, you could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?”

Steve was still as uncomfortable as he was the last time by the question. “I...I don’t know.”

They left soon after, Steve staying in a contemplative silence as he led Loki back to the bike. Loki straddled the bike behind him, and he leaned in close, his lips up against Steve’s ear. “I see you didn’t take my advice.” 

“I’m gonna show up at the guy’s house in four days and ask him to hide fugitives. I couldn’t have the last thing I said to him be... _that_.”

He could feel Loki smile against his ear as he pulled out into traffic. Loki shifted behind him and then leaned his head against Steve’s shoulder as he drew closer to home. 

The next few hours were furious and mindless and exhausting. Bucky was—he was _right there_ , and Steve threw his shield and yelled for Loki to stop him, but Loki’s green magic cage came down only seconds after Bucky disappeared. He’s not supposed to know yet who the Winter Soldier was, but Bucky’s loss was an ache ever present in his heart. He leaned over his knees, panting, and Loki disappeared briefly, a subtle shockwave passing over Steve and Fury’s gasping, bleeding form, and then he reappeared in front of Steve, hair wild around his face, his horned helm back on his head, green cape fluttering behind him. 

“Captain,” Loki gasped, and he rushed forward to help Steve stand up straight. He flicked his hand at Fury, who fell unconscious, his breath immediately easing. “I could not find him.”

Steve shook his head and handed Loki his shield. “Put that somewhere I can get it.” He turned back to see his neighbor, who was apparently a SHIELD agent assigned to protect Steve, like he didn’t have a god at his back, and Loki hadn’t even guessed. Loki hadn’t even guessed that they could have been surveilled by agents without technological means. He supposed he was lucky to have already put silencing wards around their apartment. 

Steve watched as Loki did something with his hands and his shield slipped away in a flash of green light, and Loki’s outfit was changed into more casual wear, his helm disappearing off his head. They stood back as Fury was loaded into an ambulance, and Loki did some other sort of magic with his hands and Steve’s motorcycle appeared in front of them. “God, you’re useful,” Steve muttered, and Loki’s surprised laughter was bright and a breath of fresh air. 

Natasha met them at the hospital. She threw Loki a mildly confused look, one that Steve wasn’t quite sure how to interpret, and they watched through the operating bay window as Fury flatlined and the nurses and doctors were unable to save him. Loki made a curious sound and Steve turned back to him. “That should not have happened,” Loki informed them, and he kept his gaze on the doctors as they called Fury’s time of death. “I’ve never performed healing seidr on a human before, but the spell I used would halt death for approximately twelve hours.” He frowned. “Even if I had cast it drastically underpowered, it would have still kept him alive long enough to survive this surgery.”

Steve exchanged a glance with Natasha. They separated from Loki, who continued to watch Fury and the doctors through the glass. Steve had already handed the thumb drive off to Loki, who had secreted it away in one of his magic pockets. 

They watched as Fury’s body was wheeled out, and Loki joined them, slipping his hand into Steve’s. Steve held onto him for what felt like dear life. 

They followed the gurney down to the morgue, and the nurses left them alone as Natasha did her best not to weep and Steve stood uncomfortably off to the side, Loki’s hand still in his. He knew HYDRA was behind the unending fucking surveillance, he knew he would have to go see Pierce, knew that everything was about to blow up in his face. God, at least he had Loki. At least he had the God of Mischief on his side.

The SHIELD agent that took him to the Triskelion refused to allow Loki to come with, and Steve reluctantly separated from him. He would have loved to see Loki beautiful and magnificent again in battle, even if it was only taking down the STRIKE agents in the elevator. But Loki handed him back his shield and pressed a finger to Steve’s forehead, and a wash of warm magic flooded over him.

Loki leaned close to him and told him to stay safe before spinning on his heel and vanishing. He had a sudden flood of knowledge that Loki had planted a fake thumb drive in the vending machine for Natasha to pick up.

Steve slid his shield onto his back and followed the SHIELD agent out of the hospital. 

It is not until they showed up, tired and bedraggled and very nearly traumatized, at Sam Wilson’s apartment three days later, that Steve saw Loki again.


	10. CH10

“He said you’d be showing up, needing a place to lay low,” Sam told them, after he hurried them inside. “He locked himself up in my spare room for the past day or so, but he’s a god and all, so I figured he was fine.”

Loki went easily into Steve’s arms, something tight in Steve’s chest unwinding as Loki’s long fingered hands pressed to his back. They curved together for a moment, breathing in tandem, before Loki pulled back, his bright gaze flickering between the three of them. 

“Have we a plan?”

“What have you been working on?” Steve asked back in lieu of an answer. 

Loki moved his hand in a complicated manner and something _twisted_ inside Steve and there was suddenly a small bit of magic floating in front of him. It felt similar to the magic around Loki's magic pockets. There was one also in front of Sam, but strangely not Natasha, who was pacing and pissed about not realizing the extent that she had worked towards helping HYDRA. 

Steve suddenly realized what Loki had to have figured out long before. She was out. That was how this timeline differed; he got Loki, but lost a friend. 

“I can’t do this,” she told them. “I thought I was going straight, but I guess I just traded the KGB in for HYDRA. I can’t do that again. I _won’t_ do that again.” She looked to Steve. “You ever need me, you know how to find me. But I’m out.”

And with that, Natasha left. Sam locked the door behind her and the three of them breathed in the silence for a moment before Sam turned back and motioned at the stomach-curdling magic in front of him. 

“So this?”

Loki smiled without showing any of his teeth. “Every seidrmadr has specific talents. My greatest skill, of course, is illusionary seidr. One of my second greatest skills is what we have called pocket dimensions. It is a bit of seidrspace. It is essentially a small rift in space and time that is exactly what you need it to be. For instance, I have my entire library, over one thousand years of collecting books, inside one of these spaces.” He pulled a small marble from the air. “My library contains thousands of books, yet fits in this small glass ball.”

The marble vanished and Loki continued, “For example, I have woven individual pocket dimensions into the physical pockets of most of my clothes. Many of them are to the same dimensions, from which I can pull weapons or—”

“So you, what, made us each one of these little dimensions?” Sam interjected. “Are they like little pocket spas? What am I supposed to do with it?”

“If you would let me continue, of course, I can explain. I do not know what a pocket spa is, so I doubt these spaces fall under the qualifications for one. However, given that your race has very little predilection for using or harnessing seidr, I had an extra challenge in creating seidrspace that you could both use and access.” Loki paused and looked at them expectantly. 

When no praise or applause was forthcoming, he rolled his eyes and continued, “These two pocket dimensions are yours and yours alone. They are tagged specifically to your specific seidr signatures. Of course, this was especially difficult as Midgardians seem to be vacuums for seidr instead of attractions for it, as it were.” Again, he paused, as if looking for a specific response from them. Steve tried to look as if he was impressed, and that seemed to be what Loki wanted, as the god preened for a moment and then waved his hand at them and ordered them to stick their hands into the weird bits of magic floating in front of each of them. 

Sam was quite a bit more hesitant, but Steve shrugged and complied. It seemed too far fetched to him that the past few months had all been some manner of scheme to get him to stick his hand in some sort of alternate dimension where a big shark would bite his arm off. 

There was the sickening twisting of something deep inside him, close to his heart, for the just the brief moment as he reached across the boundary of the pocket dimension, and he very nearly swayed on his feet. But it was over only a second later, and Steve’s fingers closed around the small flash drive that Fury had given him. 

He pulled his hand out and turned to Loki, who looked smug and probably more proud of himself than the situation called for, but Steve grinned at him anyway. He glanced back at the weird distortion of space and questioned, “Does it just...stay, then? Yours disappear when you don’t need them.”

“Of course they do,” Loki replied smugly. “You just have to send yours away.”

Sam had gotten up the courage to put his arm into his own dimension, and he pulled it out with a sickened look on his face. “How are we supposed to manage that?”

Loki looked confused for the briefest moment. “You merely…” he flicked his fingers in a shooing motion. “Just send it off. And then you call it back.”

“Like a dog,” Sam muttered. “Except it’s some kind of other-dimensional magic box. Alright.”

Loki tossed his hair over his shoulder and crossed his arms over his chest. “I have spent a lifetime perfecting this craft, and you compare my skills to a mongrel? I have given you—”

“Just tell us how, Loki,” Steve interrupted, stepping forward in between the two of them. He knew Loki was too temperamental for criticism, especially if he had spent a good deal of time and energy working on the dimensions. “You know that we can’t walk around with these.”

Loki sniffed but moved closer. He had a tendency towards cruelty when he was tired or worried, or more especially when he hadn’t been taken to heel. Steve, just _tired_ of it all, reached out a hand and pressed it to Loki’s shoulder, pushing down. Loki looked between him and Sam, green eyes wide, and Steve nodded.

The relief on Loki’s face was palpable as he went gracefully to his knees. He inclined his head and delicately cleared his throat, explaining how it felt to use magic to summon and dismiss the portals. It was similar to lifting weights, but with a push of his soul. To Steve’s surprise, it worked. It took Sam a few more tries to master the skill, and then he shook his head and dropped onto the couch.

Steve glanced around and ended up pulling a chair closer so Loki didn’t have to move. He took just a moment for himself, pressing his head into his hands.

It was just beginning. He knew that. It was...it was just difficult.

“It’s part of a seidrmadr-anchor bond,” Loki said, apropos of nothing. Steve looked up to see Sam shaking his head, a faintly amused look on his face, and Loki leaning against Steve’s leg, regarding Sam with something approaching reserved affection. “Our relationship outside of this does not generally include me going on my knees.” He smiled and Steve wasn’t fast enough to smack his hand over Loki’s mouth. “Unless, of course, my Captain requests it of me.”

Sam laughed, shaking his head at the two of them. “I’m gonna make breakfast,” he told them, pushing back to his feet. “You two eat that sort of thing?”

“Give us a minute,” Steve muttered, and he pulled his hand away from Loki’s mouth, waiting until Sam was out of the room. “Anchor?”

“You cannot be as—”

“Just tell me, Loki.” Steve sighed. Loki turned his head so they were looking at one another. Steve reached down to push Loki’s hair out of his face and cup Loki’s jaw in his hand. “I promised you, and I’m always honest. You’re with me until the end. But you can’t be dismissive and derogatory towards me. I don’t—I don’t care what you do to other people. You’re going to do what you want regardless of what I say. But for this to work, you have to tell me. No hiding, no secrets, no lies. Just you and me.”

Loki sat back on his heels, leaning into the hand Steve still had on his jaw. Something sparkled in his eyes, and a small smirk twisted his lips. He thought for a moment. “I cannot tell you everything.”

Steve smiled. “I don’t expect it. But you have to tell me more, and you can’t treat me like that.”

He smiled in return, turning his head out of Steve’s hand. “I will...endeavour to honor your request, my Captain.” He moved to his feet and held out his hand for Steve to take. “A seidrmadr of my skill and power cannot function properly without an anchor. It is a necessity. Every seidrmadr has different needs in that relationship, and we will...attach ourselves to those that give us what we need.”

“Your magic bound us?”

There was something dark and pleased in Loki’s gaze as Steve took Loki’s hand. “Yes, my Captain. Seidr takes pledges of loyalty and fidelity such as yours very seriously, and with Thor not here to...defend his claim, as it were, seidr takes what it can.” A devilish smile split Loki’s lips. “As you have said, Steve, I am yours.”

Steve regarded him seriously for a moment. He had to assume Loki was telling the truth, even though he knew better. “Good,” he finally said, and pulled Loki into the kitchen, the two of them gratefully thanking Sam for the meal. 

The three of them ate in silence for a few minutes and Sam rubbed the back of his neck before muttering, “So it’s pretty serious between you two, then?”

Loki was examining his scrambled eggs with a look halfway between interest and disgust. “One could argue,” he hedged, and Steve rolled his eyes, unable to keep the amusement and affection off his own face. 

“Sometimes,” Steve shrugged, “you just know.”

They all lapsed back into silence. Steve finished first, and stole Loki’s plate to finish what the god had apparently deemed inedible. Finally, he helped Sam clean the kitchen, and then he pulled the flash drive out of his pocket. “The fake one was an exact copy of this.”

Loki nodded, leaning casually back in his chair. 

“Why did you make a copy then?”

Loki looked between them, casually crossing his right leg over his left, his foot tapping an unfamiliar pattern upon the air. “Would you wish the only source of your information for this grand conspiracy to be in one place? Imagine your reaction if one of you had perhaps dropped it, or stepped on it, or any number of possibilities?”

“Or if they’d been kidnapped or compromised,” Sam muttered. Loki nodded. “What’s next, Cap?”

“We know that Pierce is the only one who can launch a domestic missile strike. We know he’s behind all of it.”

Sam wanted in, and Steve couldn’t really stop him. He wasn’t a civilian, not really, and Steve had already asked too much of him. But Loki was in agreement with Sam. Sam was useful and loyal and Steve knew when he was fighting a losing battle. And he’d missed Sam.

“Dude, Captain America needs my help. That’s a pretty good reason to get back in.”

Well then. Steve nodded. 

“Let’s get you your wings.”

* * *

“Is this little display meant to insinuate you’re going to throw me off the roof? Not really your style, Rogers.”

Steve smiled. “No, but it is his.” He stepped back and behind him, Loki floated up, green magic curling and twisting around him, and Sitwell looked genuinely terrified for the first time. A bit of green magic lifted the man up and then tossed him over the side of the building.

“Bit anticlimactic,” Loki muttered, gently dropping to his feet. 

“Nothing is as dramatic as you want it to be,” Steve told him, the two of them walking over to the side as Sam flew back up, Sitwell in his arms. 

“The algorithm, Zola’s algorithm, it’s a program for choosing Insight’s targets!”

Steve stiffened. “What targets?”

Before he answered, a green tendril of Loki’s magic slithered around his throat and squeezed. Sitwell whimpered and finally gasped out, “You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone HYDRA deems a threat. Now, or in the future.”

At Stephen’s name, Loki had gone stiff, but now he shoved in front of Steve, snarling, “How? How can it see into the future?”

Sitwell laughed at them. Steve wanted to wring his disgusting neck. “How could it not? The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it.” Loki stepped back, he and Steve looking at each other in confusion. Hearing it all, the power HYDRA had, was sickening. “Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, e-mails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future.” 

Loki looked even more furious than Steve. “What then?” Loki barked out. He ignored Sitwell begging for his life. A long tendril of magic whipped across the rooftop and slapped Sitwell across the face. Steve reached for Loki, looking between Sitwell and Sam and the desperate god. “What then?” Loki screamed.

“Then the Insight Hellicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time.”

Steve bared his teeth. “Take him to the car,” he ordered, and Sam saluted, tipping over to fly down the side of the building. Steve turned to Loki.

“If they hurt him—”

“Get yourself together, soldier!” Steve ordered, squeezing both of Loki’s shoulders in his hands. He’d shake the god if he didn’t think Loki would stab him on principle. “We both know that doesn’t happen. Now you listen to me. This is bigger than us, bigger than anyone. It’s not about them. It’s about doing what’s right, no matter the cost.” He took a deep breath and caught Loki’s gaze. “You listen to me. We stand together on this. We’re going to stop them. It’s not about Bucky, or Stephen, or even us. It’s about not letting them win and kill thousands, even millions. Now, are you with me?”

Loki took a deep breath of his own and then nodded. “I am always with you, my Captain.”

“Good. Now get us to the car. You know what we do next.”

Steve stepped back as Loki opened a rift in between time and space for them. They stepped through, Steve’s hand in Loki’s. He knew it was an easy bit of magic for Loki to yank them through space, but he still half-expected Loki to need to rest or nap afterwards.

They exited right near the car, with Loki sliding into the backseat next to Sitwell. 

“It’s gonna get bad,” Steve muttered to Sam as they both took a moment before getting into the car themselves.

“It’s not already bad?”

* * *

“We can use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the Helicarriers directly.”

Loki looked up from where he was cleaning his nails with one of his daggers. “Are you forgetting I can shapeshift? We don’t need him.”

“Shapeshift?” Sam questioned right as someone reached through the window and yanked Sitwell out, throwing him across the road.

They hadn’t had time for Steve to show Loki his memories of what had happened in this time in his life before, and even Loki was surprised at the strength and speed of the Winter Soldier. He was apparently just an evil, brainwashed version of Steve, every bit as powerful and smart and resourceful. 

The Winter Soldier slid to a stop after Steve had frantically pulled the emergency brake, and then Loki snarled, hitting the door next to him with his fist. It burst out of the car frame and Loki slid out of the car, just as the Hummer came up behind them and slammed into the car. 

Loki lifted himself into the air as he brought a great blast of seidr down, exploding the Hummer from within, HYDRA agents going flying. The Winter Soldier jumped onto their car and yanked the steering wheel out, jumping up and whipping it at Loki.

He sent it careening back with a flick of his hand, but the Winter Soldier batted it out of the way with his metal arm. Another Hummer came up behind them and HYDRA agents poured out as Loki threw a wave of seidr at Sam and Steve’s car, bringing it to a stop so they could get out.

“Loki! Stop him!” Steve called out, throwing his shield at the closest agent.

Loki brought his hands out to his sides, raising his palms to the heavens. It took just a second of building power, and he hit the Winter Soldier with all he had, flinging him off the bridge. He flew after him, landing silently on his feet. He put up a barrier between the panicking civilians and a few hundred feet around himself, knowing that the Winter Soldier was close.

A ray of bullets that bounced harmlessly off of him was his answer. Loki laughed nastily, turning to where the Winter Soldier was standing on a brace of the bridge, almost hidden in shadow. “None of your pathetic Midgardian weaponry can harm me.”

The Winter Soldier dropped down from the bridge, pulling off his goggles as he brought the gun back up to his shoulder. He loaded another bullet into the chamber and fired.

This one hit. It was painful, of course, but nothing Loki hadn’t felt before. “You allow yourself to be distracted for a few drops of blood?” He reached out with an invisible wave of seidr and touched the Winter Soldier’s mind. It was a risk, especially with the Winter Soldier being armed with bullets that could actually harm him, but he had to know.

His mind felt as if it had been skinned alive. “How are you alive?” Loki gasped, and he landed on his feet, his hand automatically going to the wound on his shoulder. “What exactly have they done to you?” He yanked his seidr out of the Winter Soldier’s mind as Steve’s shield suddenly whipped across the road.

The Winter Soldier did not look away from Loki as he dropped his gun and grabbed the shield out of the air with his metal hand. The man blinked and turned, throwing the shield back with enough force that Steve was thrown off his feet.

Loki attempted to bring up a cage of seidr to trap the Winter Soldier, but his seidr was sluggish and unresponsive. He gasped, moving off to the side, looking down to see blood pooling between his fingers where he clutched at his wound. Something was wrong, not even just with the Winter Soldier’s mind, but with the bullet he had shot into Loki. What manner of technology did HYDRA have, that they could incapacitate him so easily?

The Winter Soldier jumped through the air and pummeled Steve into the ground. Steve fought back and Loki let out a snarl of his own, staggering forward, as Steve pulled off the Winter Soldier’s mask and gasped out, “Bucky?”

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

Sam saved the day, flying down and catching the Winter Soldier off guard, kicking him off Steve as Loki gathered enough strength to call up a last great burst of seidr to set off an explosion.

“Drop the shield, Cap! Get on your knees! All of you!”

Loki staggered forward, gasping as his vision wavered. What had been done to him? He had already died—was it to happen again? There were no second chances, not after this.

He went to his knees, gasping out Steve’s name.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Steve snarled, and Loki leaned back just enough to see his Captain one last time before the world went dark.

* * *

“It was him,” Steve muttered. “He looked right at me like he didn’t even know me.”

“How’s that even possible? It was like 70 years ago.” Sam turned his head as Loki groaned from where he was leaning on Sam’s shoulder. They had refused Loki and Steve to be close to one another, given the news in the press about their relationship. “You comin’ back to us, buddy?”

“Buddy,” Loki drawled hoarsely, keeping his eyes shut. “Why do so many of your realm insist on not using other people’s given names?”

“It’s usually a sign of affection,” Sam replied as Steve shook his head.

“Zola,” Steve said, barely giving Loki a glance. “He...Bucky's whole unit was captured in '43, Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and…”

“Shut up, Captain,” Loki grumbled, finally peeking open an eye. “We’re not going through this again. It isn’t your fault. Now, will someone help me heal this wound? It does hurt most grievously.”

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”

“Soon you will have nothing again if I am to perish here!” Sam watched as Steve seemed to come back to himself and reassess Loki’s too pale complexion and the bloodstains on his tunic and hands. 

But it was Sam who had to tell their silent guards that Loki would die soon without medical assistance, and that letting Loki die would surely be an act of war upon Earth. But Maria Hill saved them, managing to get them to a secret facility, Steve carrying Loki inside as he was the only one of them strong enough to carry him. 

Steve hung around long enough to make sure that Loki was going to live and see that Fury was miraculously alive before he ducked out. It was harder than he’d thought to see Bucky again. There was so much more shit they all had to go through. It was all so different this time around, as well. He knew how it was all supposed to turn out, but he didn’t know how they were going to get there. Having Loki with him changed everything. 

He had a sudden thought to run, to somehow get Bucky out of HYDRA’s grasp, stop Project Insight before it could kill nearly a million people, do it all on his own without putting anyone else at risk. Loki would kill him. He knew it couldn’t do it on his own. Nor would he want to, not really. He couldn’t be a captain without his men. Or whatever Loki was.

But he couldn’t go back on his words to Loki. It wasn’t about them, not in the end. It was about saving the world.

He met with Fury again, both he and Sam hiding their chips in their pocket dimensions. He waved off Fury’s questions by telling him there was nothing left to salvage. “You gave me this mission, this is how it ends. SHIELD’s been compromised. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.”

“Why do you think we’re meeting in this cave? I noticed.”

Briefly, Steve wondered what Loki would’ve said to that. “And how many paid the price before you did?”

Fury softened a bit. “Look, I didn’t know about Barnes.”

It wasn’t fucking about Bucky, not really. Not the way people thought it was. It was about HYDRA. It was about HYDRA courting chaos and destroying the country and ruining lives and trying to kill a million people. “Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes.”

Maria agreed with him when Fury looked at her, as if they could stop him. As if anyone could stop him now. 

Sam shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I do what he does, just slower.”

“And your god? What will Loki say?”

Steve couldn’t stop the small smile that crossed his face, and he dropped his arms from his chest. “Loki does what I say.”

Fury didn’t seem to know what to say to that. “Well, looks like you’re giving the orders now, Captain.”

Damn fucking straight.

* * *

Loki followed him on the bridge, looking bright and hale. One of the surgeons had managed to dig the slug out of his shoulder and his own magic had quickly healed him after that. Loki had stolen the bullet from them and had spent the past hour or so dissecting it to figure out how it had harmed him so severely. From what Steve had understood, HYDRA had some technology that could inhibit magic when in contact with blood. Loki had been furious and had apparently built up some personal ward around himself that would render any further use of the bullets ineffective.

“I knew what was coming, but I still can’t believe it.”

Loki leaned casually against the bridge railing, brushing his arm against Steve’s, grounding the two of them. He’d cleaned his tunic and armor of the blood, but hadn’t repaired the hole from the bullet, and the small flashes of his pale skin kept catching Steve’s eye. “It will all be over soon.”

“Coming from anyone else, that would be reassuring.”

Loki grinned and they stood in companionable silence for a moment before Steve reached down and caught Loki’s hand in his own. “I want you to see,” he said simply, and brought Loki’s hand up to his head.

_I just kind of wanted to be alone._

_How was it?_

_It was okay. She’s next to Dad._

_I was gonna ask…_

_I know what you’re gonna say, Buck, I just…_

_We can put the couch cushions on the floor, just like when we were kids. It’ll be fun. All you gotta do is shine my shoes, maybe take out the trash. Come on._

_Thank you, Buck, but I can get by on my own._

_The thing is, you don’t have to. I’m with you until the end of the line, pal._

Loki staggered back as Sam interrupted them. “How did you—you _used_ me! How were you even able to control my seidr enough to force me to see—” He looked vaguely nauseous and he looked between the two of them before vanishing.

“Damn it,” Steve muttered, rubbing at his forehead. “You need somethin’?”

“He’s going to be there, you know.”

Steve sighed. “I know.”

Sam reached out to grab Steve’s shoulder. “Look, I don’t know who he used to be, but the guy he is now, I don’t think he’s the kind you save. I think he’s the kind you stop.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.” It wasn’t even difficult to admit. He knew what was coming, the years they had to go through. All he could hope was that they’d all make it through together.

“Well, he might not give you a choice. He doesn’t know you.”

Steve lifted his chin. Buck didn’t need to know him. Steve knew them enough for both of them, and he had Loki on his side, along with dogged determination and more courage than was healthy for him. “He will.” He met Sam’s warm gaze. “Gear up, it’s time.”

He turned away. He didn’t know where Loki was, but he’d find him. He had a suit to find first, though. “You gonna wear that?” Sam called after him.

“No,” he called back. “If you’re gonna fight a war, you gotta wear a uniform.”

* * *

Loki met him before he could go to the Smithsonian. He already had Captain America’s uniform in his hands, and he was wearing a different outfit of his own, more formal and gaudy. It was more gold and green and black leather, and his cape flowed around him like water. His horned helm was shined and seemed to have its own inner glow. 

Loki handed him his uniform, his face unreadable. Steve tried to smile at him. “Did you already have it?”

“I stole it during our date.”

Steve grimaced. “Loki, I...I thought you wanted to see.”

Loki’s chin lifted and he looked down at Steve. “It takes great strength and power to overpower a seidrmadr’s wishes. You should not have been able to control me. It should not be possible.”

He began changing, freezing when Loki reached forward to help him unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants. “Is it...that bond you were talking about?”

“Perhaps. More research is warranted.” He pulled Steve’s shirt over his head and smoothed his hands over Steve’s chest, moving back as Steve toed off his shoes and stepped out of his pants. Loki helped him into the uniform and went to his knees to tie Steve’s boots. “I feel obliged to tell you that if he harms you, I will kill him.”

Steve reached down and grabbed one of the horns on Loki’s helm, pulling Loki’s head back so he could look at him. “How about this, if you think he’s going to kill me, you hurt him, and if he does kill me, then you do whatever you want.” Loki glared at him. “If he hurts you, I hurt him. But we’re not gonna kill him. We’re gonna help him.”

He strapped on his helmet and called up his own pocket dimension, pulling his shield from it before sending it away. Loki moved to his feet, smoothing down his clothes and fixing a few bits of his armor, glancing over Steve. Suddenly, he pressed his palm to the center of the star on Steve’s chest. “My Captain, I did not realize...thievery?”

“What, stealing my uniform?” He herded Loki out of the room, up the stairs to where the plane was going to take them to the Triskelion. “It was mine first.”

“Was it?” Loki pulled him to a stop outside of the plane. “Must we take this mundane form of transportation?”

“How many people can you pull through your world walking?” Steve replied back fondly. “Before we go, I have something I have to ask.”

“Of course, my Captain.”

“It’s going to get bad out there. Worse than whatever you think. If it goes the way it did last time, Buck shoots me and I get dragged out of the Potomac. He goes AWOL. We’re going to stop HYDRA and take down SHIELD, but Bucky goes missing. I need you to go with him.”

Loki looked almost shocked, and not for the first time, Steve desperately wanted to know what he was thinking, what he had expected Steve to ask of him. “Of...of course, Steve. I already—” he shook his head and looked back at Steve. “I will follow him through the dark.”

Steve grabbed him around the neck like had seen Thor do before, and Loki’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the Captain’s grasp, Steve himself tipping forward until their foreheads were touching.

“You lovebirds ready or what?” Sam yelled from the top of the stairs to the plane. 

Loki smiled and leaned forward, Steve meeting him in the middle for a kiss. 

Steve hoped that after all this, they could keep this, whatever fragile thing it was between them. No matter how it began, they were together until the end.


	11. CH11

The Asset dragged Steve from the river.

There were things they couldn’t pull from him, not really. Things that were too deep, too ingrained. Pierce had known, or was figuring it out. 

That weaselly guy with the funny helmet appeared next to him. The Asset had seen him, fighting alongside his mission and the other enemies, but he hadn’t been told a name. He’d moved differently than anyone he had seen before, inhuman somehow, more like water flowing down river. 

“I am Loki.” He looked to Steve and crumbled some manner of stone over his chest before turning back to the Asset. “You are?”

_You are?_ “Ready to comply,” he said, because there was no _you are_ , there was only _you do_.

“Did they give you one?” Loki looked around at the ship falling from the sky.

He struggled for a response. He could remember something, but it wasn’t anything tangible, nothing he could sink his teeth into. Whoever this man was, whoever this Loki was, he was the only thing keeping the Asset from running. Finally, his mouth creaked open enough to rasp, “That man called me James Buchanan Barnes.”

Loki looked terribly impatient. “Pick one of those, then.” Loki glanced one last time at Steve on the river bank before herding the Asset away from him. 

“Pick one?” the Asset repeated. Pick one? He didn’t even know _how._

Loki rolled his eyes with a put upon sigh. “Must I do it? Very well. What rank are you, soldier?” He waved his hand at the two of them and something slick slipped over the Asset’s skin, and he looked down to see his uniform had changed. Blue pants and a black shirt, with some kind of grey overcoat, and a hat that he had to stop himself from throwing to the ground. It felt strange to have his face bare, and he had to stop himself from bringing up his fingers to graze along his own skin.

The reply was out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying, “Sergeant. 3255—”

“Sergeant it is, then. Follow me.”

“Are you my handler?”

Loki waved him on. He was now wearing all black. Even his fingernails were black. Sergeant looked at the nails on his own right hand. “You certainly ask a lot of questions.”

Sergeant went quiet. He knew how to do that. Loki hadn’t given him a mission yet, but sometimes they liked to make him wait, or stick him back in the cold, or put him in the Chair. 

They walked for a good long while. Sergeant stayed within a few feet of Loki, always keeping his eyes on that shiny mop of hair, even when frantic crowds attempted to pull them apart or Loki moved faster than any of the other humans Sergeant had served under. He wondered what his purpose was now.

“Come here, Sergeant,” Loki told him, and he listened. Loki held out a hand and Sergeant had to be ordered to take it. Loki did something to the air, something _wrong_ , something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he could see through it, see into something dark and swirling and every color he could imagine. “We will step through, and you will be safe.”

He didn’t know what that meant, but he followed Loki through.

It was like being compressed into a thousand tiny pieces and then yanked back to himself, and he shook himself off once they were all the way through. Loki dropped his hand and Sergeant lifted his own hand to look at it.

Touch.

Hmm.

He looked around where Loki had brought him. It was three rooms, one with a bed, one with a couch and a TV and a kitchen, and the last room was a small bathroom. “Well?” Loki drawled, waving his hand around to encompass the rooms.

Sergeant went through each of the rooms, checking them for threats and surveillance. He met Loki back in the main room. “Sir?”

“Do you approve?”

Sergeant considered that. Did he approve of the rooms, or of the lack of surveillance? Or no visible threats? The blanket on the bed was blue, did he approve of that?

Loki reached out towards him and he felt his mind calm. “I see now my mistake,” Loki muttered, and he was quiet for a minute. “Sit, Sergeant. On the couch.”

He complied, watching Loki as he paced. That was better, Sergeant knew how to wait. He could do that.

Finally, Loki turned back to him, and pulled a black notebook and a pen out of thin air. He handed them to Sergeant. “In this you will find your new routine. You are to write a report of your daily activities for me. Do you know how to cook?”

Sergeant opened the notebook. 

_6am: Wake. Go to the bathroom. Shower. Brush teeth and hair. Dress yourself._  
_7am: Make breakfast. Eat breakfast. Write down any dreams you had the night before._  
_8am: Write down any memories._  
_9am-11am: Read from provided books._  
_12pm: Make yourself lunch. Eat lunch._  
_1pm-3pm: Free time. Watch TV, read a book, draw, go to a movie._  
_4pm: Exercise in approved location._  
_5pm: Return to apartment. Read from provided books, watch TV._  
_7pm: Make dinner. Eat dinner._  
_8pm: Free time. Watch TV, read a book._  
_10pm: Go to bed. Sleep._

__

He could feel the tension seep out of his shoulders. As much as he would have liked to just run off and try to figure out his past by himself, this was better. This he could do. “No questions, sir. I do not know how to cook.”

Loki made an affirming sound and came closer. Sergeant looked up at him. “There is also a page of rules. You will not leave this apartment unless it is between the hours of 1pm and 5pm to partake in activities outlined in the schedule and the rules. I’ll use seidr to create your meals for the next few days.” He waved his hand at the kitchen and Sergeant craned his head to see, but nothing looked changed.

Sergeant looked back down at his notebook. The schedule had changed to _Warm up_ for each of his meals instead of cook. He turned the page and read over the rules.

“I expect you will not enjoy this schedule for very long. I only ask that you do not leave for one of your own safehouses or a place that HYDRA told you was safe without telling me first.” Loki made a thoughtful sound and Sergeant looked back up at him. “I want to know immediately if you remember any of your conditioning under HYDRA.”

“Does this journal link to you?”

“Of course not.” Loki frowned at him. “Why would I care to read your personal writings? Although…” He reached into the air around him and pulled out two notebooks, one red and one green. “Pick one.”

Sergeant probably took too long choosing one of the colors. It felt like a test. Loki had been perfectly congenial so far, but he knew better than to trust that. Finally, he reached out and took the red one, opening it. The pages were blank. He looked back up at Loki. “Was I supposed to take the green one?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “If you had taken the green one then I merely would have changed the color of the red one to green, so it would not clash with my outfit. Now, if you write in the red journal, it will appear in my green journal, and vice versa. If you need anything, tell me. If you need me…” Loki trailed off for a moment. “Ah, yes. If you need me, put your hand, either hand, on the cover of one of the journals, and say my name. I will be alerted.”

Sergeant held up the red journal and placed his metal hand on the cover. He muttered Loki’s name and a loud chime echoed from Loki’s direction. Loki raised his eyebrows at him and Sergeant removed his hand.

“Very good. Now, I must be taking my leave.” He waved his hand and Sergeant realized that the bookcase next to the TV was suddenly full of various books. “Have you any more questions before I leave?”

“Where’s Steve?”

“That, my dear, is what I mean to go find out.”

Sergeant leaned back against the back of the couch and inclined his head as Loki bowed slightly and then vanished. 

For the first time in a very, very long time, he was alone. And he still did not know who he was.

He opened the black journal and read over his rules again.

_1\. Your name is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Your childhood friend, Steve Rogers, calls you Bucky._  
_2\. You will eat three meals per day, and drink three cups of water per day. You will not deny yourself nourishment or rest or relief._  
_3\. You are not safe outside the confines of the apartment. The door will not open outside the hours of 1pm and 4pm. The windows are unbreakable._  
_4: You are to begin with one question every day. There is no punishment for questions._  
_5: Your mission is to heal. This is not a trick. You are not being tested._  
_6: The only requirement of your healing is to tell Loki or Steve if you remember any of the conditioning from HYDRA so the Winter Soldier cannot be activated again._  
_7: Do not trust anyone._

He nodded to himself and opened the red journal.

He wrote: _if you need me, how will I know?_

The reply came a few minutes later, in Loki’s flowery, elegant handwriting. _If I need you, this journal will bring you to me._ A minute later, as he was trying to put into words that he didn’t know how to heal, that he couldn’t just let Loki, the first person to be kind to him in however many years, go out into the world by himself, another missive came through, again in Loki’s handwriting.

_Steve says hello._

* * *

Waking was difficult, a push through murky blankets and heavy grey tiredness. He knew he was in a hospital room before he opened his eyes. The music playing was quiet and calm.

Sam sat to his right, reading through a magazine.

“On your left,” Steve whispered, and Sam smiled at him.

Sam handed him a small cup of water, that he drained many times over, before he felt comfortable enough to sit up more and shake his head. “Loki?”

Sam rubbed his hand over his face. “Disappeared after the Helicarrier went down. Nobody besides you has any way of getting into contact with him, so I can’t find him. Stark hacked into the CCTV’s and can’t find him anywhere. He’s AWOL.”

“He’ll come back,” Steve told him. “He always comes back.”

A few nurses came in to check Steve over, and he was released from the hospital later that afternoon. Sam had decided to stay with Steve until Loki came back, and he went with Steve to Fury’s gravesite, where Fury and Natasha were waiting for them. 

“So, you experienced this kind of thing before?”

He supposed he shouldn’t have expected anything else. “You get used to it.”

“We’ve been data-mining HYDRA’s files. Looks like a lot of rats didn’t go down with the ship. I’m headed to Europe tonight, wanted to ask if you’d come.” Fury didn’t look at him. 

Briefly, he thought of it, working for whatever was left of SHIELD. He knew he wouldn’t do it, not in a thousand years, but he considered it. He knew that wherever Loki was, Bucky was assuredly with him. He felt like he’d grown something of a sixth sense with Loki, and he would have known if he’d somehow gone back to Asgard or had gotten hurt during the battle. 

“There’s something I gotta do first.”

Fury didn’t even try to talk him out of it. He just turned to Sam, as if Sam would just drop his loyalty to Steve and go with him. “What about you, Wilson? Could use a man with your abilities.”

Sam didn’t even hesitate. “I’m more of a soldier than a spy.” He made a very obvious step closer to Steve.

“Alright, then.” He held out his hand, and both men obliged him with a handshake. “Anyone asks for me, tell them I’m right here.”

They watched him walk off, and get into the back of an SUV, that quickly drove off. Natasha pulled a folder out from the briefcase she was carrying. “You should be honored.”

“Is that so.”

“That’s about as close as he gets to saying thank you.”

Steve barely stopped himself from saying something rude and he just looked at her. She looked better, healthier. Quieter. “Not going with him?”

“No. I have my own to take care of.” She handed Steve the file. “Figured you’d find a use of this. I deleted it off all the servers, so this is the only copy.” She turned to walk away and then looked back at them. “Be careful, you two.”

She went her own way, Steve flipping through the files. The very first page was a huge black and white photo of Bucky, blank eyes looking out over his mask, long hair in his face. 

“You’re going after him?” Sam asked.

He couldn’t do anything different. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“I know. When do we start?”

Of course, because Loki couldn’t miss a dramatic entrance, he stepped out from behind the nearest tree with a dramatic twirl of his cape. “We start now, of course,” he told them, and god, Steve couldn’t even stop himself, shoving the file into Sam’s hands, pulling Loki into his arms. He could feel the glamour over Loki’s clothes fade away, and he held him even closer. 

“It’ll be a quick trip, of course,” Loki muttered into the side of Steve’s head, pulling himself away from Steve to smirk at the two of them. “Given that he’s already sequestered away.”

Steve stepped to Loki’s side, his arm going around the god’s waist as they both looked at Sam, who just shrugged. “That was easy, then. Did you pick him up after the fight, then?”

“Something of a sort. I also cannot imagine a poorer location for this conversation,” Loki drawled, and Steve laughed, briefly squeezing him closer. Sam had driven him there, and he led them back to his car, Steve and Loki sliding into the back seat. 

“Your place, Cap?”

Steve shrugged. “Better than anywhere else.”

Loki pulled a green notebook out from the inside pocket of his suit, flicking it open. Steve tried to read what was in it, but his eyes wouldn’t focus on the words. “It’s enchanted that only I and the recipient can understand it,” Loki informed him, and he pulled a pen out of midair and scrawled a quick sentence. “I assume I can tell Bucky that you say hello.”

“How is he? Where’s the safehouse? Does he remember me?”

Loki tucked the journal away and turned to Steve with a shocked look on his face. “My Captain! Have you so little faith? He is safe, and has multiple wards upon him that keep him from harm, both from outsiders and himself.” Loki leaned casually back against the seat. “Do you have so little patience for us to wait until we are safe for me to answer your queries?”

Steve grumbled something about crafty sorcerers but he instead turned his attention back to Bucky’s file, Loki reading over his shoulder.

As they pulled up to the parking outside Steve’s apartment, Loki made a curious sound and pulled the green journal back out of his suit coat. He jotted something down in it and didn’t reply to Steve’s question about it.

Sam parked, and Steve got out first, holding out a hand for Loki, who gingerly took it while keeping his attention on the journal in his hands.

“Does he know me?” Steve asked, and this time, he was unable to keep the desperation out of his voice. Sam threw him a strange look as they walked inside the building.

Loki made a noncommittal sound. “I merely asked him to tell me if he ever remembers any of the names of the people HYDRA had him kill. He replied immediately in the affirmative, but I can only imagine he will feel reticence soon, going by what I saw in that file.”

Steve opened the door to his apartment and Loki quickly went to their bedroom, changing into more comfortable clothes as he kept up communication with Bucky through the journal. Steve offered Sam a different outfit, which Sam accepted after a moment of thinking. Steve changed into pajamas and then busied himself in the kitchen, pouring Loki and Sam both a glass of wine. 

Loki made himself comfortable on the couch, finally answering Steve’s questions. Sam pulled an armchair closer, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, watching Loki curiously.

“I set up many safehouses on many realms long ago. The one Bucky resides in now is not far from here, and I would trust anyone to be safe there.”

“Anyone?” Steve interrupted. 

Loki looked up at him. “I can promise you, Captain, I would not have taken him there if it was not safe.” He cleared his throat and took a sip of his wine. “He dragged your body out of the river, Steve, and I led him away. His instinct was to go off on his own, but his training overruled that, and he followed me easily enough. He believes me to be some manner of handler. I touched his mind a few times”—Loki shuddered and summoned a blanket to cover himself—”and even I was horrified. He is...fractured.”

“What did you do with him?”

“I gave him a list of rules, and a schedule to keep. Again, his instinct was to hide, so I gave him a way to hide while also keeping him safe. HYDRA gave him a list of safehouses if he was ever compromised, or if HYDRA was ever compromised. He would have run to one of them without realizing he could be easily captured and compromised again. His own innate intelligence cannot yet counteract 70 years of brainwashing.” Loki looked up from the journal to meet Steve’s horrified gaze. “I left him with dozens of self-help books, varying in topic from anger management to dealing with unhealthy relationships and people. Part of his schedule is to read from those books for a few hours every day. I also left him—”

“What do you mean, schedule?” Sam asked, his tone guarded.

“I gave him an outline for everything he should be doing that day. I don’t expect he’ll follow it exactly for longer than a few weeks, but as I have been so often reminded, self care is important. Without a—”

“He’s not an invalid!” Steve shouted, fists clenched as he stormed into the kitchen.

Loki merely raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and please, do tell how you came across this knowledge? I seem to recall your dear Bucky beating you into unconsciousness because he had spent the last 70 years being tortured by HYDRA? Would you rather I set him loose upon the world? He could not tell me his own name, Captain.” Loki waved his hand and a vision of Bucky in his small apartment floated before them. 

Bucky had already torn a few books down from the bookcase and they were all over the floor. He paced back and forth, glancing at the watch on his wrist every few strides. His long hair was in disarray from constantly running his hands through it, and he looked on the verge of panic. The two journals were cracked open on the back of the couch, and it was obvious he had already begun writing in the black one. An empty glass and plate were on the coffee table.

Something flickered across the vision and Bucky’s voice came through. It wasn’t entirely understandable, but it seemed to filter between what he had to do for the rest of the night. It was immediately clear that Loki’s schedule for him was a great comfort to him. The rest of his mutterings were about Loki and Steve, about how he wanted to call Loki to him already, how he didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing, how he couldn’t help himself, how Steve was the only thing peeking through the dark. 

The sound faded away and they only watched Bucky pace. Eventually, he checked his watch and then turned the TV on, leaning against the back of the couch as he paged through the available options. He ended up settling on a baseball game, glancing between it and the journals.

Finally, he ended up writing in the black one.

Loki ended the vision. “As you can see, he is comfortable in his quarters. Again, I was asked to help him by none other than yourself, Steve. If you wish, I can remove the only link he has to the world outside of his small apartment, and we can check in on him every few days as he starves to death.”

Steve took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. “No, you’re right, Loki.”

“Oh,” Loki purred, sitting up straight. “Please do say that again.”

Steve and Sam simultaneously rolled their eyes. “For right now, he’s fine there.”

Loki smirked. “He has already shown loyalty to me.” He tapped one of the pages in the green journal still in his lap. “He has been given absolutely no autonomy in his life for over 70 years, so one of his rules, for lack of a better term, is to ask one question per day. His first unprompted question was about my safety.” He closed the journal and nestled deeper into the couch, taking another sip of wine. “I asked him to choose between a red and green journal for our communications journals. Would you like to guess how long it took him?”

“10 seconds,” Sam guessed.

Steve went back into the kitchen to plate their meals instead of answering.

“Nearly three minutes. He immediately asked if it had been a test once he had chosen.” Loki rolled his eyes and shuffled down the couch so Steve could sit where he had been resting against the arm of the couch. Loki leaned against Steve’s side and took the plate handed to him. Sam was already eating.

“I have never claimed to not have suffered,” Loki finally said into the quiet as the three of them ate. “Even with my own troubles, in my darkest times, I could always have firm footing in the fact that my mind was solid and my own.” He smiled a bit, not looking at either of them. “Of course, I was not entirely correct in such an assertion, but I still had that. Bucky does not. He has spent an entire one of your lifetimes in servitude to evil, and he has only begun to figure out who he is outside of that. It will be a very long journey for him.”

Steve nodded and leaned his cheek against the top of Loki’s head. “If you’re who’s with him through it, then he’s in good hands. Thank you, Loki.”

Loki preened as Sam nodded in agreement. 

The three of them finished their dinners in silence. Steve ended up offering Sam the extra bedroom before he and Loki retired for the night.

Loki curled against Steve’s naked side, comforted in the warm flesh against his cheek. 

“Is he going to be alright?” Steve whispered into the darkness between them.

Nodding, Loki muttered back, “He doesn’t have much of a choice, not with me at his heels.”

Steve smiled into the dark.

* * *

Bucky called for Loki early the next morning, and he dressed himself in one of Steve’s shirts and a pair of low-slung sweats, his hair twisted up in a ponytail at the top of his head, before stepping through time into Bucky’s apartment.

Bucky nearly threw himself at Loki once he appeared, moving between holding his hands to his head and reaching desperately out to Loki. Loki glanced into the bedroom to see that the bed had at least been mussed, and then he walked into the kitchen, starting the coffee pot for himself. Sometimes tea just didn’t cut it.

“Sergeant,” Loki finally barked, “Quiet yourself. Tell me in ten words or less what the issue is.”

Bucky gasped on a few deep breaths before throwing himself dramatically onto the couch. Loki rolled his eyes, making sure Bucky couldn’t see. “I remembered something.”

“Oh, do tell.”

“One of the code phrases.”

That got Loki’s attention, as he immediately turned back to Bucky and stepped into the living room. “Soldier, report.”

Bucky sat up straight. “I remembered _furnace_. I don’t remember what order it was, and I know everything was in Russian, but I remembered.” He looked to Loki as if Loki would toss him a treat for doing so well.

Biting back a nasty remark, Loki smiled and moved closer, taking the seat next to Bucky. “You have done very well.” He reached out and rested his hand on Bucky’s cybernetic arm. Bucky’s eyes were immediately glued to it. “You must know that I ask nothing of you besides your own health and betterment.”

Bucky nodded slowly, as if he was stuck in glue. “I don’t know who I am anymore. But I know you.”

Loki leaned back, his hand sliding from Bucky’s arm. 

“I don’t remember most of it, not yet. But you weren’t there. You pulled me out of it. You’re keeping me safe.”

Loki nodded. “Even if you remember nothing, or decide you cannot deal with the memories, I will be here with you. There is no obligation on your part.”

Bucky blew out a breath and leaned a bit closer to Loki. “I don’t think I can let myself _not_ remember, y’know? But you’re there for me, I know that.”

They were both quiet for awhile. Bucky felt himself drifting off to sleep, but he had to keep the two of them safe, Loki was his commanding officer, he couldn’t. 

After a good while of Bucky fighting off sleep, Loki finally opened his mouth. “When I was younger, and quite a long time ago, a series of events led to me hanging off a bridge. Below the bridge was a long fall into a great deep dark, in which a madman hid. At the time, I chose the fall. I wanted to die more than anything in the world.” Bucky was surely awake now. “When I was younger, I was desperate for a way out. Desperation will drive someone to madness.”

Bucky’s hands went into fists on his thighs. He barely knew Loki, barely knew _anything_ , but whatever had done this to him, whatever forces in Loki’s life that had caused him to hurt himself or want to die, Bucky wanted to crush them. He wanted to destroy them. 

“Sir, I…”

Loki continued on as if Bucky hadn’t spoken. “I never attempted suicide before that fall. I lived a life that I was desperate to escape from, but I was too cowardly.”

His blood ran cold and Bucky straightened. “Sir, I won’t kill you.” 

Loki flashed him an amused smile. “Even with your enhanced physiology and enhanced anatomy, you could not even hope to harm me. But no, Sergeant, I am not telling you this to justify some manner of asking for my own death.” He waved his hand as if waving off the thought. “No, I tell you this tale of woe in order to endear myself to you. I tell you this in order to say that I have suffered as well. I have been crushed and remade anew many times in my life. I have always been considered...wrong, faulty somehow. But I am whole, even without him.” He trailed off, looking off somewhere Bucky could not follow. 

It was nearly a full minute of silence before Loki spoke again. Bucky wanted to say something, to say whatever was right, to be reassuring or friendly or kind, but he wasn’t capable of that anymore. He didn’t know how. Instead, he could only do what he had done for so long—whatever he’d been told. 

“Perhaps that is what I am meant to learn. The Norns shape our lives so we can live with reason, and we have to learn from our lives.”

Bucky snorted. “Sounds like bullshit.”

Loki turned those bright green eyes on him. “Oh?”

“Nothing happens for a reason, sir. Everything is random. There’s nobody pulling the strings or whatever.”

Loki raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “I have personally met the three Norns. Perhaps they care not for boring Midgardians, but they surely shape and act upon the lives of Aesir.”

Shrugging, Bucky replied, “Doesn’t matter. Nothing happens for a reason.”

Loki leaned back against the couch and tapped his chin with his finger. “You mean to tell me that you were tortured and brainwashed and destroyed as a person for no reason? Someone was bored, perhaps?”

He shook his head. “There isn’t a great cosmic plan that caused HYDRA to do that to me. Some evil men took me and used me. But there wasn’t a great big meaning to it. Not anything that I can see, at least.”

Strong fingers clasped his shoulder, and Bucky looked over to see Loki leaning close. He barely even _looked_ human. Not attractive, not ugly, just _other_. “We are shaped by our experiences,” Loki finally told him, and he leaned away, but his hand stayed on Bucky’s shoulder. His eyes cut away. “I am many lives, all in one life. I have suffered, Sergeant, beyond human comprehension. Beyond Aesir comprehension. Sometimes, beyond my own comprehension.”

Green eyes met blue.

Loki smiled.

“Perhaps, however, not beyond your comprehension, Sergeant.”

“Bucky,” he replied. “Just call me Bucky.”

“Of course.”

* * *

“When is Steve coming?”

Loki looked up from his plate. Midgardian food was so very strange. He had asked Bucky was he had wanted for dinner, and Bucky had hesitated before asking for some meat and bean and tomato stew. It was spiced and served with warm bread and cheese. Loki had found a restaurant down the street that served it and the two of them had had a very interesting time attempting to act like functional adults. 

“When do you wish him to come?”

Bucky tapped his spoon against his empty bowl. It took his mind a moment to spin up enough to figure out how to say _soon, but not too soon. I barely know him but by God I miss him_. Finally, he grimaced and muttered, “Can I have more time?”

Loki looked back down at his food. “Whatever you need,” he replied, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He turned his attention fully to it, and Bucky relaxed. He cleared the table and put himself to the task of cleaning the dishes. It was good, to have something to do. He still expected to be put back in the cold, to be put back in the Chair, but Loki was...he was cold, and strange, and sometimes cruel, but he wouldn’t do that. Against all odds, Bucky trusted him. He trusted that Loki _understood_ him, understood at least some of what HYDRA had done to him. Steve wouldn’t know that. He ran cold water over his metal hand and felt nothing.

“What happened after you fell?”

Loki didn’t look up from his phone, but his fingers stopped moving on the screen. “I have to admit admiration, Bucky. I did not expect you would be comfortable asking so many questions so soon.” He carelessly dropped his phone to the table as Bucky came back to the small table and sat down across from him.

On the screen of the phone was a picture of Steve kissing Loki on the cheek.

Emotion had been burned out of him long ago. Bucky felt himself as a husk of a man, someone who barely knew who he was, someone who was barely human. He even had a cybernetic arm to round it all out. He knew he couldn’t be jealous, couldn’t complain. Loki, after all, was so much more than Bucky. He was smart, he was quick, he was a _person._

But Bucky remembered stolen kisses behind Army tents, rushed handjobs in the woods of Germany, seeing Steve all big and brawny and so fucking _beautiful_ after waking up on that surgical table, and before all that, before the war, the two of them being all they had in a world that was doing its best to damn near screw them over. He and Steve were rushed confessions of love before they went to war to die. Steve was the first thing he knew.

Loki and Steve were none of that. Bucky couldn’t give Steve any of that, not anymore. He didn’t even know he if could, or if he was even capable of it. He wasn’t even sure if he _wanted_ Steve anymore. He barely knew his own name. 

He was good at shutting down his own thoughts. He hadn’t been allowed any for 70 years, after all. Sometimes he wished Loki would activate him, take him away from all this. It was easier to do what he was told, to be the Winter Soldier.

Loki’s long fingers covered the screen of his phone and Bucky slowly looked up at him. Loki merely raised an eyebrow. 

Bucky didn’t want easy. He wanted his goddamn life back. He wanted himself back, or however much of it he could salvage. He wanted to know all he had done in those years he wasn’t himself. Steve...Steve was secondary to that. He had to be. Bucky didn’t even know if the man he was now could even love someone.

“I fell for a very long time. It felt as if for centuries. I happened through a wormhole, and...it was unpleasant. Very unpleasant.” Loki did something with his hands that caused his phone to disappear. His long fingers splayed out on the table in front of them, and after a moment, they began shaking. “I have made many enemies on many Realms during my life. Falling from the Bifrost was akin to being hunted by all of them at the same time, in a very small room with no where to go. When the Other found me, it was nearly a relief.”

Bucky wanted to ask who Thanos was, but even just the name seemed enough to terrify Loki, who Bucky could not help but to consider nearly indestructible. So he kept quiet. The tremor in Loki’s voice was enough to keep him from asking questions.

“They called it Sanctuary, you know.” Loki tapped his fingers on the table, his voice quiet, nearly a whisper. “The Chitauri lived in an asteroid field and called it Sanctuary. Thanos called it that because after he invaded their people, he would retreat there after murdering half the population of other planets.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “They operate under a hive-mind intelligence. What one believes, they all believe. It is...very disconcerting at first. But you grow used to it, I suppose.

“They plucked me from space and time and unmade me. I was already wounded from the fall, and they used my weakness to their advantage. They were unbearably cruel. By the time the Other brought me before Thanos, I was willing to do anything. After all, I have always been weak.” His hands twisted into fists. “I have always stayed my place. I am, after all, a being meant to live on my knees. I was never meant to rule.”

Bucky stayed quiet for a long moment. His chest ached. “You didn’t go to your knees in front of me.”

Loki snorted. “Nothing to be gained. It would not help you. In fact, I never even felt the urge.” He looked up and their eyes met. “How very interesting.” He pushed to his feet and paced in the small confines of the kitchen. “For as long as I can remember, in _every_ life I can remember, I was no better than a tool to be used, a shameful second son that belonged on his knees.” He snarled and Bucky carefully went to his feet, readied to defend himself if need be. Loki moved faster and faster, inhuman in his gait and walk and speed. “Did you know what I did? I bound myself to him! I was no longer my own, I was _property_. There is loyalty and then there is what I did.”

He suddenly stopped and gave Bucky a smile so nasty and dark that Bucky flinched back. “I did all that for one purpose. When he comes back, if he _ever_ comes back, I am going to whip it all out from under him. And you, and Steve, and Sam even, will all be standing behind me. And finally, he will be the one on his knees.”

Loki turned on his heel and was gone.

It took Bucky a very long time to calm down enough to sit down again. Loki had put off waves of magic during his rant or speech or whatever impassioned thing it had been, and it had left Bucky feeling over energized. But it was outside the hours that he was allowed to leave, and even as much as he pounded the door with both hands, it would not open. So he paced and did pushups and situps and jogged in place until he was tired and sweaty and could sit without his heart beating out of his chest. 

Whoever _He_ was, whoever had done Loki so poorly, Bucky was going to pound them into the dirt. All he knew anymore was violence, and if violence was what Loki needed, Bucky would give it. 

Finally, after he’d heated up some pre-prepared dinner and finished it and picked out a book from the shelves, he opened up his red journal. There was no message from Loki, but he wasn’t expecting one. It took him awhile to decide what to write.

Finally, he decided on, _When you need me to fight, I’ll be there. Tell Stevie I say hi._

* * *

He wasn’t testing himself, not really. It was just a little experiment. Just enough to _see._

It had been nearly two weeks since he had gone to his knees. Every night was a test against his own strength. Steve seemed not to notice, but Loki knew. Loki saw his concerned glances, the way the Captain would wrap his arm over Loki’s shoulders as they laid together, how his Captain would ask him to cook or clean or do something for him. Steve was not subtle, but Loki still enjoyed his company. 

He woke up that morning and was unable to get out of bed. His seidr was awash in his body, overwhelming him, encompassing him. It was difficult to even breathe, let alone move, or get up, or eat. He gasped and twisted his hands in the sheets. He could not even _see._ He knew his eyes were open, but there was only swirling green and black. 

A warm hand rested on his forehead.

“I’m going to need you to calm down before you bring the whole building down on us.” Steve’s voice was quiet, and almost amused. 

It did not work. The test had failed. _He_ had failed.

That warm hand was joined by another that dragged him out of bed and laid him out on the floor.

Thor had been right all along. He was dust, he was useless, he was—

“Shut up,” Steve ordered, and finally, blessedly, Loki’s mind went quiet.

He gasped and pressed his mouth to Steve’s bare foot, and then managed to pull his body forward to curl around the man’s leg. 

“I told you to ask for this. I told you there was no shame in needing it, but you would have to have the goddamn maturity to know when you needed it.” Steve sighed and pet Loki’s hair. “I don’t care what you need, Loki. I’m willing to give it. I don’t care if we’re in public, or in front of Tony Stark, or on the national news. It’s all the same to me. But I won’t make you.”

Loki gasped again, some of the black receding from his vision. 

“I know you think I should. Make you, that is. I think you’ve lived your entire life without anyone ever asking you what _you_ wanted, and I think you’re used to that, no matter how elitist or smarmy you act. But I’m not like that. And you know that. I expect more of you.”

“You shouldn’t,” Loki whispered. He didn’t want to have to ask; somehow that seemed worse than being shoved to the ground so many times that standing was no longer an option. Surely asking for his own subjugation was crueler than it being forced upon him? 

“I’m not going to say I know what I’m doing. Instinct and morality is really all I’ve got left. Besides you, that is. I’ve got Bucky, but I barely know him anymore. Sam is a friend, but he goes home at the end of the day. You’re all that’s here and mine. But to be better than you were with him, to become _more_ , you have to tell me what you need.” Steve took a deep breath and Loki disengaged with his leg long enough to move back and meet his dark gaze.

“I’m telling you now that I respect you enough to not assume what you want. I’m not saying that you have to tell me because I’m refusing to put in the effort. I can only imagine how many times Thor told you something similar, but he was lying. He was _wrong_. He was saying that to manipulate you into thinking he cared about anything other than controlling you. You _know this_ , Loki. You know it. You know that even though we’ve known each other for just months, that I’ve already put more effort in to helping you than Thor ever has. All he ever wanted from you was your submission, and for years, centuries, he just forced you on your knees and made you think you wanted it. What I want is you, Loki. Nothing else.”

Loki leaned back against Steve’s leg and smiled. 

“I told you, that if you want to do this, you have to tell me. No lies, no skipping around it. None of your fancy word play, no tests, no pretending to be someone you’re not. You’re mine. That’s all you need to be around me.”

“Yes, my Captain,” Loki breathed, and his soul finally settled. He wondered what it looked like now, if the great Captain America resided over his seidr and his soul, if a seidr representation of his infamous shield was above Loki’s angry, tumultuous soul. Thor and Captain America, in endless battle for Loki’s soul.

Well, he knew who he’d bet on.

“I am yours.”

Steve nodded. “You always will be. We both know that if he ever comes back, you’re not going with him. We’ll be at each others sides until the end of time, or one of us dies, whichever comes first. But you quit this now. I mean it. I can’t have a soldier under me that isn’t operating at peak efficiency, especially not my most loyal and most powerful.” He pulled his hand back from Loki’s hair and cupped his jaw. “You’re not going to do this to yourself anymore, understand? We have a war to win, and another after this, and more after that. We’re together through all of them.”

Loki moved up his Captain’s legs and rested his head in his lap. It took him a moment to decide, and then he whispered, “It will be soon. I can feel it.”

“I know you already have a plan. Whatever it takes, we’ll do it. We’ll beat him. You and me, against the world.”


	12. CH12

Somewhere along the line, Bucky had learned of the Smithsonian exhibit. He couldn’t remember where; perhaps it had been before he had pushed out of HYDRA’s brainwashing, perhaps it had been after. He was given four hours a day to himself, four hours outside of the apartment. He didn’t have the internet, but he did have a phonebook, and it was easy enough to find the address to the museum in there. He was close by, as it turned out. 

He found that he wasn’t particularly fond of people, especially not crowds. He remembered before, his brothers and sisters, his parents, his friends, his girlfriends. He remembered leaning over Steve, still small and still foolhardy and still brave as hell, in a dark alley and finally, finally, after all those years, ducking down and pressing their mouths together. He remembered falling asleep against Loki’s shoulder and waking up in the god’s lap. He remembered caring.

He could not see the faceless horde around him as he walked down the street as anyone important to him. He knew Steve was different. Loki was not. They were both better than him.

The walk to the Smithsonian was refreshing. He hadn’t spent much time outside his apartment, nothing more than running on Loki’s approved route until he felt as if his heart would burst out of his chest. Usually it took the entire four hours, but it was better than nothing.

Walking was still good. 

Sometimes his hand still moved towards the gun he felt he should have on his hip or slung over his shoulder. Sometimes he felt as if he should still be wearing a muzzle. Sometimes he would get lost doing the simplest of tasks and would have to sit or stand wherever he was until his brain caught up with himself and he remembered he was able to do things without being told.

He told Loki some of it. He stayed quiet on the rest of it.

Looking at his own face in the Smithsonian was eerie enough. Having Loki appear next to him was even worse. But Loki, somehow, miraculously, stayed quiet. He merely stood next to Bucky, hands behind his back, eyes flickering between the various displays in front of them.

Bucky spoke first. “That’s not me,” he muttered. “Whoever that was, I’m not him.”

Loki didn’t move. “That man fell 70 years ago. You do not have to be him.”

“Steve wants me to be him.”

That caused Loki to move, and he tipped his head to regard Bucky with amusement. “You don’t know what Steve wants. I, however, do. Of course he wants his childhood friend back. His brother-in-arms from the great war. But he’s not the same man who went down in the ice 70 years ago, and he knows you’re not the man he misses. So he doesn’t expect anything. He can want something but not expect it from you.”

“I still can’t see him.”

“ _Again,_ he doesn’t expect anything from you. He just wants you well and hale.” Loki turned his head back to the exhibit, and he took a few steps to look at the information laid out for Captain America. “The photo has you at his left hand. In Asgard, the left hand is for a lover. The right hand is for a trusted comrade, for your closest confidante, for your dearest one. Aesir culture often holds platonic relationships over romantic or sexual, after all. Did the artists of this portrait know? Surely I would have heard of it. So it was coincidence, then.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Generally, yes. But you will have to give me more information as to what you are referring.” Loki’s gaze flicked over the large portrait on the far wall of Steve’s face, and then he turned back to Bucky. 

“I know he’s yours now. All I had back then was him, and now I don’t have anything.”

Loki looked back at the massive picture of the Howling Commandos on the wall. “Steve Rogers is not a possession. If anything, I belong to him. As for your second sentence, you don’t _need_ anything now besides your own mental health. He asks me daily for reports of you. He asks constantly for information on your wellbeing. He asks this, of course, while I am on my knees before him, before I am to service him.” He turned to Bucky and smirked, his voice taking on a wave of mockery that made Bucky want to slug him. “Does this distress you? Does knowing that I have seen more of his body than you make you uncomfortable? He and I have been intimate, after all. I have seen more of his heart and soul than you.”

Bucky shrugged, even though it was difficult. He kept looking at his own picture. How different was he now than the man he had been? It had been over 70 years since he’d been lost in the cold. But how many years had that been, how many years had he been out of it? How many years had he actually been alive? 

“It doesn’t bother me,” he finally said. “I can’t even be thinking about any of that right now. We both know I’m not healthy enough.”

Loki elegantly shrugged. Bucky was again overcome with the urge to punch him, but he turned away, began making his way out of the museum. Loki followed behind him, tucking one of his long hands into Bucky’s elbow. They bustled through the crowds, Bucky breathing a bit easier once they were out of the building and on the street, making their way back to his apartment. 

“I’m not jealous,” Bucky finally said. “You know me well enough by now to know that’s true.” Loki hummed. “All I want is to get better, and for Stevie to be happy. You also know that.” He looked up at the god, who was overly casually looking at the people in the crowd they were cutting through. “You need to be safe, he needs to be safe. No one better than the two of you to keep each other safe.”

Loki’s hand tightened on his arm. In his pocket, covered in the glove, Bucky’s metal hand tightened into a fist. He wasn’t lying, not about anything. He didn’t even know _how_ to lie anymore, not really. 

“Your first question of me was how you would keep me safe.”

“I meant it. Whatever it takes, Loki.”

Loki leaned closer. He was colder than a normal human; Bucky couldn’t feel his body heat. “You are not thinking of that, however, my dear Sergeant. I am curious of what you are truly thinking of. Something has been plaguing your mind of late.”

Loki wouldn’t say anything, Bucky knew that. He wouldn’t judge, or even make a cruel comment. Not when it was about Bucky’s memories. He seemed to be almost empathetic, and Bucky knew that the god had gone through similar horrors of his own. 

It took him by the time they made it back to the safety of his apartment for Bucky to reply. Loki tossed his cloak into the corner and draped himself dramatically on the couch, Bucky pulling up a chair so he could sit in front of him. 

“They had me the entire time, but how much of it was I even awake for? I don’t even know how old I am, not really. How much of it was I conscious for? How long did it take them to break me? I can’t even _remember_.”

Loki kept his gaze on the ceiling as Bucky dropped his head into his arms. “You understand the entire purpose of the machine they attached you to was to erase your memories? It was not for their own amusement. A shadow operation requires—”

“Shut up,” Bucky interrupted, and Loki hid his smile. “I don’t need you to passive-aggressively explain away to me why HYDRA fucked me over for 70 years. What I need you to do is stop being such a huge dick for five minutes while I explain myself.”

“Of course, my dear Sergeant.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I don’t know who I am anymore, Loki. I’ve known twice—back when I was Bucky, before HYDRA took me. And I knew who I was under HYDRA. I was the Asset, the Winter Soldier. Now? I don’t even know how long I’ve been _alive_. I know how many years I’ve been on Earth, but how many of those was I really _alive_? I still don’t even know who I am. I can’t even be around other people without worrying how many of their relatives or friends I’ve killed.”

“Reports indicate that the Winter Soldier was responsible for approximately two dozen assassinations over the past 70 years. Statistically speaking, none of your actions have affected the common man.” Loki didn’t actually know if that was true or not, but it seemed reassuring. 

Bucky sat back. “You mean I’ve killed over twenty people?”

Loki examined his fingernails. “How many more Nazis did you kill? How is that less than those you assassinated while not yourself? Is twenty people you cannot even remember really worth all this stress and angst?”

It was not even a question, not really. “Any life lost is worth it.”

“You and I are so very different,” Loki mused. “Two dozen people, in my mind, is barely even worth the effort. I could wave my hand right now and two dozen people would die. It would not even register to me to expend the effort. You, however, are guilt-ridden because of actions you could not control.

“However, if my sources are correct, you’ve been asleep for the majority of those 70 years. I would assume most of the time you were under the influence of the machine that suppressed your memories. My research indicates that the longer a recipient of the memory suppressing device was awake, the better chance they had of regaining their memories. Ergo, HYDRA had incentive to keep you in cryosleep for as long as possible. A soldier of your caliber would not need weeks or months to kill someone. It was perhaps one of the reasons, besides opportunity, that you were chosen. I could conceptualize that you were awake for no longer than ten years, perhaps twenty at the absolute maximum, depending on your mental acuity and resilience. So, of course, you would be what, 40? Perhaps 50? By the Norns, you’re an infant.”

Bucky couldn’t hold back his smile, as small as it was. “An infant?”

Loki moved over so he was leaning against the arm of the couch, even as he still draped over-dramatically over it. “Physiologically, an Asgardian rapidly matures from the time of birth until they are about ten or so. Our growth during those years is eerily similar to a Midgardians. We suckle at the breast for a bit longer, are immobile for a bit longer, crawl for a few more years, but it is over extremely quickly. A ten-year-old human and a ten-year-old Aesir are, for all intents and purposes, nearly identical. Your species matures far rapidly after that. It is not until a Midgardian and an Aesir are approximately 20 and 100, respectively, that they are similar again. We are far more advanced, of course. We live so many of your lifetimes that it is nearly laughable. So yes, being 40 is close enough to be an infant.”

“You really like the sound of your own voice.”

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. “Surely you cannot judge me for it, given the almost haunting and melodic tones of it?”

Bucky tried to rub the smile off his mouth, but it refused to go. “It makes me want to put pins in my ears.”

“Put pins in your ears, my dear, and I’ll merely cast a spell to echo my voice around in your skull. I could not in good conscience deprive you.”

Before Bucky could reply, Loki’s phone trilled. He dug it out of his pocket and held it to his ear. It took him a minute to reply and then he put it down, giving Bucky a look that was halfway between remorseful and mischievous. 

“Alas, my Captain calls for me.” Loki pushed to his feet and Bucky mirrored him. He couldn’t keep the fucking affection off his face when he looked up at the god, and they both knew it. “I will return when I am able.” Loki reached out and Bucky met him in the middle. He wished his metal arm could feel something, anything. 

“Be good,” Bucky requested, and then, with an amused lift of an eyebrow, Loki was gone.

It was early, but Bucky went to bed, and he slept like the dead.

* * *

With SHIELD gone underground, there were technically no more Avengers. They didn’t have a governing body, no regulations, no one to tell them what to fight or when. No one to point the cannon and shoot. As it turned out, they didn’t really need one. Steve was never really fond of being told what to do, after all, especially not by a corrupt government institution that was being run by Nazis. He was a soldier, he could take orders. They just had to make sense.

There were still people that needed saving, people that only the Avengers could save. Tony was in the process of redesigning suits for all of them, excluding Loki, of course. He had taken one look at Tony’s designs and essentially mocked him into disbelieved silence, something that Steve had wished he could have gotten on video. Steve didn’t care what he was wearing, but Loki did. Loki cared about what he was wearing more than nearly anyone. The only person that tied more importance to his physical appearance was, again, Tony. But say that to either of them and Steve would be glared at until he burnt up. Tony and Loki were really only similar on the surface, after all. Steve only liked one of them.

There were reports of HYDRA cells that were still active. Steve and Loki looked at each other and Steve volunteered the two of them to go wipe them out, but _of course_ , with Tony involved, it couldn’t be that easy. Tony had to wax poetic about how his newest suit had some sort of thermal-imaging technology, which had Loki airily waving his hand and boasting that he could do that without the aid of infantile technology. Which then led to _how,_ of course, which then led to Loki pulling off the glamour around his eyes and blinking at them all with crimson eyes and then making a sly joke about Steve’s response. 

Then, of course, that turned the meeting into a near-confrontation about their relationship, and Steve literally threw his hands up in exasperation. Loki was enjoying the attention, of course. He casually answered their various inquiries, giving sly smiles to the other Avengers in lieu of answering their more invasive questions. 

Banner finally quieted them down. “Steve is a grown man—”

“Overly grown, some might say,” Tony interjected.

“And we don’t need to interfere with his relationship, to the God of Mischief or otherwise.”

“What about Thor?” Natasha finally asked. “I remember him insisting that you two were going to sleep in the same bed.”

“You ask if I am cheating on my brother by being in a relationship with Steve?”

“You’re from legend, right? What about Freyr and Freyja?”

Loki smirked. “Ah, yes. The twins. They were very fierce in their retribution towards me from that accusation. Cost me nearly a year to escape from it. But it is of no matter, not truly. I am, however, not in a relationship with Thor. He has no claim to me.” Very carefully, and possessively, Loki rested his hand on Steve’s forearm.

They moved to other topics after that, mainly back to talking about HYDRA. Tony and Banner ended up having something else to work on, something that Natasha was apparently helping with, which left Steve, Loki, and Clint. The three of them took Tony’s reports into a smaller room, where Loki quickly paged through them before handing them over to Steve, leaning dramatically across the table so he could stare at Clint.

They hadn’t had much contact, not really. Loki had been uncomfortable being in the same room as him. This Clint Barton didn’t remember Loki’s possession of him. He assumed that Steve wasn’t the only one affected by Thor’s botched spell, but Clint had never said anything besides occasionally calling Loki sir. Perhaps it was dreams, similar to Steve’s. Perhaps the Mind Stone continued to affect him over time and space and dimensions. How very interesting.

“Have you heard of the Einherjar?” Loki queried of the two of them. He was sat next to Steve, of course, with Steve at his right hand, and Clint was directly across the table from him. Steve looked thoughtful but shook his head.

“They’re warriors,” Clint replied, his voice tight. He kept his head ducked down, his eyes on the table in front of them. “Elite warriors. The warrior-class of Asgard. They are chosen from a young age to train for war, and the best of them are personal guards to the royal family.”

He did so enjoy an element of chaos whenever his life felt normal. It was good to be kept on his toes.

“Ah. So you do remember.”

“Loki,” Steve warned, looking between the two of them.

Clint slowly looked up and met Loki’s gaze. “I didn’t understand it. I had these dreams, you know. I couldn’t figure it out, not for a long time.”

“I had dreams too,” Steve interjected. “I know what you think happened, but it wasn’t real.”

Clint looked between them. “I remember other things. If you were in a relationship, he wouldn’t be sitting there.”

Loki smirked and leaned closer. “Sitting at my partner’s left means we are lying?”

“He doesn’t know any of that. I know about it. I know you, sir.” Clint grimaced and the smirk on Loki’s face only grew. “I know how you think. I know _what_ you think. He’d be sitting at your left. You’re saving it for someone.”

Loki waved him off. “You think a few dreams means you know me? Anyone can dream of me.” He looked to the computer screen in front of the conference table. “Are we going to—”

“HYDRA can wait,” Clint barked back. “I remember what you did to me. I deserve an explanation.”

Loki tipped his head back and then turned to Steve. “Dear, please give us a moment. You can pace outside the door and I won’t even put a silencing ward over the room.”

Steve glanced between them and nodded, pushing to his feet. He had a thought of telling Clint not to hurt Loki, or to tell Loki not to do anything stupid, but he just looked between them and then left. He closed the door behind himself and leaned on the wall next to it.

Loki turned to Steve once the Captain was out of the room, and he lifted his finger. A green wave of light flashed briefly over the room, and Clint relaxed immediately. He seemed to notice what he’d done a moment later, and he straightened up again, keeping his fists on the table. 

“I have dreams, you know,” Clint informed him, his voice quiet. “Most of the time, it’s dreams of other lives I’ve lived, other realities that I’ve been pulled through towards you. But sometimes, I have your dreams. You need to tell him about what Killian did to you. Or tell _someone_. Holding it in isn’t helping anyone.”

Loki blinked a few times and then pretended like Clint hadn’t spoken. “Alternate realities exist all around us. Everything takes place simultaneously, every version of us doing a thousand different things all at once. Every decision you make is fractured off into millions of other versions of you, all making other decisions, living lives that are the same yet still different. It is possible to access these other dimensions, but it takes great seidr. Asgardian seidrmadrs spend their entire lives learning of these spells and still rarely manage to access other dimensions.”

He took a deep breath, and slowly let it out through his nose. “A very long time ago, Thanos came to Midgard. This was in a dimension that was similar, yet, again, so very different. In this dimension, you were also under my control. You were mine.”

“I remember,” Clint breathed. “You unmade me.”

“Of course I did. I told you, I made you mine. Now, listen. In this particular dimension, Thanos gained all six of the Infinity Stones. He did this many times, in many dimensions. But this one is very important. He killed me in that time, Thanos did. He wrung my neck, choked him, squeezed the life out of me. After Thanos caused the Decimation, my brother, Thor, went mad. He went beyond mad. He won’t tell me all of it, and I assume him to have lied about what he has told me, but from what I understand, he spent months, if not years, researching a way to get me back. I am very useful to have around, after all.”

“Sir, I…”

“I won’t have another one of you interrupting me when I’m trying to explain myself. Shut up. Now, he managed to find one of the spells that Aesir seidrmadrs spend their entire endless existences attempting to find. I spent six months in...a library here on Midgard and wasn’t able to find anything nearly powerful enough to construct the type of spell required for what Thor managed.”

“What did he do?”

“He manipulated time and space and energy. He was able to reach through multiple dimensions and pull me from death, and even change things in the dimension he brought us to. Not only was he able to do this once, he did it hundreds, even thousands of times. Do you know the cause of every new trip to another dimension?” Clint slowly shook his head. Loki bared his teeth and stood up, leaning on the table with both his hands. “He killed me. My own brother killed me. He has been caught up in a time loop of his own creation for presumably, over one thousand years. Over time and dimensions, of course, the spell weakened.

“The last time, we were months from killing Thanos. My brother was still mad, of course, but he hid it better. I got further than any version of myself before, and he still killed me. That, I assume, was the final straw for the spell. Or the thousands of repetitions, or any number of factors. I tell you all this, of course, to explain why you remember the life you lived in another dimension. That was not you, and it was a different version of me. A different version of all of us.”

“But I remember it.”

Loki sat back down. “You remember moments. You remember me, because I bound you to me. I told you, you were mine. The Mind Stone is vastly powerful, even beyond my knowledge. It could have lasted through the weakening vibrations of Thor’s spell. Without the Mind Stone, I can’t remove it.”

Clint leaned back in his chair. “I already knew all that, you know. I told you, I know what you know. I thought I wanted you to break it at first. But I don’t want it broken. You did something horrible to me, and you’re not getting out of it that easy.” He looked up from his fists on the table, and slowly flattened his hands. “I’m going to be connected to you for the rest of my life, and I have a feeling you don’t like loose strings. I guess that’s what’s different about me this time; I don’t hate you. But I can’t...I can’t _stop_. I thought about shooting an arrow into you, or sticking a knife into your spine.” He sighed and looked away from Loki for the briefest of moments. “My hearing’s shot, y’know. Always has been. I’m supposed to wear hearing aids. But I could always hear you.” He took another deep breath. “We both know I can’t hurt you. I only half want to anyway. But what I want…I want you to meet my kids. I’ve told them about you. They’ve seen you on the news.”

Loki leaned back in his chair. He was genuinely speechless. He had assumed this would lead to Clint wanting to shoot him with an exploding arrow, or use him for target practice. “Of...of course.”

“One more thing. I’m panicking every minute I don’t know you’re safe. You did this to me. So I guess I’m saying…” Clint looked up from his hands. “I’m yours again. Whatever that means.”

Well then.

“I suppose I have no option of saying no.”

Clint snorted. “You don’t get out of what you did to me. You wanted me, you got me. What do you call a King’s bodyguard?”

“Many things. A King’s personal guard is very different than an Einherjar guard. I suppose what you are asking for is called _hirdman_ , or a King’s man. It is essentially a guard that lives with the family. Similar to a housecarl, I suppose.”

He shrugged. “Good. I’ll keep your secret about Cap, by the way, sir. I’ll figure out why eventually. Or remember.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “I’ll wait to tell him that our home will be gaining another resident. I’m sure he’ll be truly overjoyed that I have yet another man under my wing.” He moved to his feet and then paused, a slow smile curling over his face. “If memory serves, you are bound to keep my secrets.”

Clint didn’t even look confused. “Of course, sir.”

“Good.” Loki waved his hand at the door and it opened, Steve stepping immediately in, looking between them as if he had expected one of them to be dead, or at least dying. “Sit, my Captain.” Loki waved Steve to the chair to Loki’s right, and then he gracefully took his own seat, looking between them.

Steve looked cautiously between them. “Everything figured out?”

Loki laid his hand delicately on Steve’s arm. “We’ll have a few things to figure out, of course, but for now, we can continue with bringing down the rest of HYDRA.”

They finished going through the files, deciding to go after von Strucker last, as taking out the rest of the operatives would make the man paranoid and eventually, easier to catch. Loki mentioned they had someone they could ask for more information, but didn’t elaborate further on Clint’s curious look. He wanted to see the man’s family first. Then he’d trust him. Well, as close as Loki could get to trusting someone.

They all decided to meet back up the next morning. Clint waited for Steve to leave the room first and then he barred the doorway with an arm. “Tonight, then?” Loki queried, turning to the archer.

Clint nodded. “Tonight.”

“Very well.” Loki waited until Clint dropped his arm and then called out for Steve. “I will meet you back at our home. I have some loose ends to tie up.”

Before Steve could say anything, Loki reached out and clasped Clint’s arm, yanking Clint’s home towards him through space. To his credit, Clint barely wavered as they landed.

“You knew all along? Where they were?” Clint glanced around and then turned back to Loki. “Even when we were enemies, and you said nothing?”

Loki shrugged one shoulder. “Always more leverage, I suppose.” He looked around and did not bother to hide his grimace of distaste. “You know I saw it. I merely did not expect it to be so...you choose to live like this?”

“Wouldn’t want anything else.” Clint dragged him towards the house. “Honey! Laura!”

A young, dark haired woman opened the front door of the house, and behind her, two small children. One of them, he assumed the girl by her long hair, recognized Loki almost immediately, and cried out his name, barreling towards him. Clint caught her first, swinging her up into the air, the two of them laughing. 

Loki went to the lady of the house, inclining his head and holding out his hand in the Midgardian custom. “I am Loki of Asgard,” he said, and she gave him a long, searching look before shaking his hand. Her grip was firm, callused. A woman of the fields, then. Of course Clint would not marry someone who could not support his children. 

“Laura Barton.” She dropped his hand. “Of Earth, I suppose.” Clint dragged over the two kids and the four of them stood in front of Loki as if he was to judge them. 

Loki merely smiled at the two children. “I hear your father has told you many tales of my adventures. Would you like to see some magic?”

They bowled him over immediately, excitedly yammering on about magic and fighting evil and how cool was Captain America? Could Loki really do magic or was it just tricks? Sometimes their daddy could do tricks, but not real tricks. What about Tony Stark, was he really that smart? Why was Loki so tall? Was it because he was an alien?

Loki patiently sat on the grass with Cooper and Lila and answered every question. He took the plastic cup that Laura offered him and politely sipped at the strange lemon drink, and as the sky darkened around them, he created illusions and ghosts and sparks and flashes of light that had the entire family in awe. 

Laura and Clint leaned against each other on the front steps of their house. “He doesn’t seem so bad,” she tried, as Cooper yanked on Loki’s hair and then asked him why it was so gross. 

“He’s better than what I remember. I think he’s trying to impress me, actually.”

Laura elbowed him in the side. “You _think_? Do you need to be up in a tree to see that? He’s only here because you asked.”

“He’s only here because I guilted him into it,” Clint hedged, but they both rolled their eyes at that. 

“A dying man couldn’t guilt him into casting a spell to save his life,” Laura told him. 

“You know a lot about the guy I’ve had in my head for over a year.”

“Because he was in your head, dear. I know what you know. It might be all muddled by whatever spell he used to get you to work for him, but you know _everything_ about him. That’s why he’s here. He doesn’t want to lose that.”

“You really think so,” Clint mused. He even rubbed at his chin. “I basically told him I was gonna be his bodyguard. He didn’t even argue. He has Captain America at his beck and call but thinks I’m capable of protecting him.”

“Do you know why I kept you?” Loki’s voice came from the dark, and then he slipped forward, two sleeping children in his arms. Each parent quickly took one, but they stayed to listen to Loki. “I could have killed you. I could have broken you further, so that even if you ever did come back to yourself, you were nothing more than a drooling heap on the floor. I did it to others, you know. They weren’t what I wanted, so I twisted and broke them until they were. You, however. You were what I wanted. I told you, Clint Barton. You have heart. It is a quality that could even be called admirable.”

He bowed slightly to Laura and then was gone. 

“You sure do bring home the interesting ones,” Laura grumbled, but she pressed a kiss to Clint’s frozen cheek before taking Cooper in to bed.

* * *

“Barton’s house. Where does he live? A birds nest? I haven’t even been there, I’m not sure anyone has. And he just let you in?”

“It was more of a self-assisted kidnapping.” Loki didn’t look away from the various pots and pans he had moving around in the kitchen. “He lives in a house. I would not put an animal in his home, but he seems to enjoy it.”

Steve just shook his head. “A _house_? I always figured he lived in an apartment in Bed-Stuy or somewhere like that. Does he live with anyone?”

Loki’s face tightened. “Not everyone can find their way into a god’s bed, my Captain.”

“And what was that!” Steve finally pushed to his feet and paced a few times, and Loki finally looked away from the kitchen and up at Steve. “Christ, what else are we giving away by where I sit? How did he not try to kill you?”

“I doubt that anyone besides the man who had been in my mind would note such a small detail. Especially none on Midgard would even know of the Asgardian culture. Even if it is in our myths, surely it could be explained away with lack of knowledge on my part or the necessity of some manner of bonding.” Loki waved a hand. “You understand we have more important things to talk about.”

Steve dropped back down to his seat, shaking his head. “Part of mission success is that nobody knows about the damn mission. You can’t just go cavorting off collecting, what, bodyguards? From what I know of Buck, the guy would die for you. Hell, I’d die for you. Sam probably too. Now you got Hawkeye?”

“The beginnings of a fine harem,” Loki pointed out.

Steve laughed a bit but mostly just rolled his eyes. “Is he moving in then? I was hoping to keep the empty bedroom for Bucky.”

“They can share.”

“They’re grown men!”

“You and I are both plenty grown and we share a bed for no reason other than we both seem to enjoy it.” Loki actually turned his attention away from what he was cooking in the kitchen to point at Steve. “There wasn’t even talk of me conjuring up a separate bed or some manner of seidrspace. And now I’m comfortable there and don’t plan on moving.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Fine, they’ll share. If Buck ever wants to get back together with me then you and I can figure that out when the time comes.”

Loki sniffed. “Any type of relationship is very far off for him. He’s told _me_ that. But yes, we will have to figure out how you will kick me out of my own bed to have sex with your childhood—”

“You can just sleep with Barton,” Steve replied tiredly. 

“Clint?!” Loki squawked. One of the pans in the kitchen trembled. 

“He’s already in your head, what’s sleeping with him?”

Loki suddenly smiled and slowly turned his head to look at Steve. “You’re jealous. Did you have it all planned out? You, a mortal, planning out the future of a god? What did it entail, you and Bucky finally in a relationship? Is he somehow miraculously hale and no different than the man you lost? I do seem to recall you pledging your life to mine. Am I your servant in these delusions? A god on his knees, in service to his two masters? The dark secret of the great and heroic Captain America.”

Steve pushed to his feet and grabbed his coat. “I’m not getting into this.”

The apartment door slammed behind him. 

Loki turned back to his dinner. He thought for a moment about going after the Captain, but, well, he’d had a long day. Instead he plated his dinner and curled up on the couch after pulling on one of Steve’s shirts and a pair of shorts.

He’d taken a few bites of food and mentally drafted his first apology to Steve when a loud chime rang out from one of his pockets.

Loki barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes as he pushed to his feet and yanked himself through space into Bucky’s apartment.

Chaos greeted him. Usually he would have taken pleasure in it, but it was between Bucky and Clint, the two of them rolling around on the floor, throwing each other through tables and pushing each other through walls and really, they were impressively evenly matched. Clint kept up well enough with Bucky, who was serum-enhanced and had his cybernetic arm. Clint was quick, and could apparently almost predict what Bucky was going to do.

Neither of them seemed to notice him, so Loki leaned against an undamaged portion of the wall and continued eating.

It took a few more minutes for Loki to finish eating and Bucky and Clint to end up in a stalemate, with Bucky’s metal hand on Clint’s throat and Clint with a knife to Bucky’s throat, the two of them panting at each other. Neither of them had noticed him yet.

“Impressive,” Loki said, sending his plate to the sink. He wiped the crumbs off his shirt and began using seidr to repair the damage. “This saves me a potentially uncomfortable introduction.”

“He broke into my _home_! How’d he know where I live?”

Loki floated up to the couch and threw one of the cushions at the two of them. “We have an agreement.”

“An agreement that this freak knows where I live?” Bucky yelled, and with a roar, he lifted Clint up by his neck and threw him through the wall next to Loki. Panting, he turned to Loki with a wild look in his eye. “Loki, what the fuck?”

Loki spread his hands out. “I explained to you about the—”

“No bullshit, Loki! How’d he know where I live? Who else knows? You said I was safe!”

Loki helped Clint out of the wall and sighed, guiding the archer to sit on the repaired couch. “You are safe. Clint and I have...a bond, for lack of a better term. I cannot keep secrets from him.”

“What the fuck?”

Clint shrugged Loki’s grasp off and stood between him and Bucky, who looked on the verge of going feral. “I’m in his brain. It’s like I got sucked in. Mind reading or something.”

“He’s the ideal pet,” Loki smiled thinly, and ducked the punch Clint threw his way. He continued repairing the apartment, turning his back on the two men. “I assume he came here after I left his family to show he had the same information on me as I had on him. The location of something precious to me.”

Bucky blinked at that, but then swung his head between them again, baring his teeth. “Why not your home, then? Why not Steve? Why me?”

“Half the Avengers and what’s left of SHIELD already know where Cap lives. This was the only safehouse that actually had someone in it.”

Loki frowned, impressed against his will. “How many have you visited?”

Clint shrugged, picking up a few pieces of debris and tossing them in the closest trash can. “Enough. This is the closest one to Cap, which I found interesting. But no one knows where you are, Barnes.” He looked back at Loki. “Actually, nobody else knows. The only people who know where this safehouse is are in this room.”

Bucky turned to Loki. “Is that true?”

Loki thought for a moment and then nodded. “Of course, I couldn’t have predicted that I would have someone poking around in my mind without my knowledge or awareness.” He looked to Clint. “Why didn’t you know where I was when Killian kidnapped me?”

“You didn’t know, which meant I didn’t know. I knew you were in pain, but I figured it was sympathetic or something. I can’t see what you’re seeing, I just know what you’re feeling or thinking. Laura was the one who told me I was talking about you in my sleep. When you showed up, I knew you. It just took me awhile to remember.”

“Effects of Thor’s spell,” Loki mused. “I wonder if there are others similarly affected.”

“Tony immediately distrusted you,” Clint replied, tossing a cushion onto the couch. “Natasha doesn’t like you, but she doesn’t like anyone. Banner thinks you’re mad as a hatter, but it’s not like he’s wrong. Cap likes you, always has.”

Bucky let out a long breath. “What does this mean, then? For me?” 

Loki finished repairing the living room and moved onto the kitchen. “I assume you wish for me to make the decision?” Bucky looked between them and nodded. “I’ll give you two choices. Either you stay here, and Clint knows now. Or I move you, and Clint finds out eventually.”

“Spy,” Clint shrugged.

“I don’t trust him.” Bucky felt pulled apart. His life had been _good_ , comfortable even. He was in a routine, he had a future here. It had only been a few weeks but it had been more than he’d ever expected. He had Steve, somewhere in his future, even just as a friend. Now some mind-freak that Loki hadn’t even been aware of was ruining all that. He just wanted some fucking peace.

“I have no choice but to trust him.” Loki moved closer to Bucky, slowly reaching out toward him. “My dear...Bucky. Bucky. Give me a week at most, I can figure out how to block him. I’ll put you somewhere safe.”

“This was safe.” 

“You won’t be able to block me.”

They spoke at the same time, and then slowly turned to each other. Bucky finally went into his bedroom and slammed the door hard enough to shake more drywall out of the wall. Loki turned to Clint.

“Sit. You’re going to explain to me what you’ve been keeping from me.”

Clint shrugged and pulled up a chair. “He’s listening in.”

Loki floated up a bit and crossed his legs, hovering in the air. He opened a seidr pocket and pulled out one of the gems from Alfheim, and he tapped it with his finger. “Good. It saves me from explaining it to him later. This,” he motioned to the shining, glittering jewel, “saves me from telling Steve.” 

Sharp green eyes turned to Clint. “Surely you must know my feelings about this.”

He shrugged again. “You’re pissed. A little bit afraid and worried. But mostly pissed.”

Bucky’s bedroom door opened and he slipped out, leaning against the wall. Loki glanced over him and then looked back to Clint. “Continue.”

Clint kicked his feet out and toed off his boots. “I told you, it’s like a one-sided mindmeld. I know what you’re thinking, feeling, your memories.”

Loki stiffened. “You have over 1500 years of my memories? How are you still standing?”

“I’m stronger than I look. I’ve also had around two years to come to terms with it all.”

Instinctually, Loki spread out his seidr and reached towards Asgard. As it had been for so long, it was dark, and he was still abandoned. Even the hylli was dormant. Clint frowned a bit. “That seems to coincide with Thor’s coronation,” Loki mused. If the bond between him and Clint had been inactive before then, perhaps the strength of the minni could have awoken it. Perhaps the fracturing of the bonds between him and Thor had allowed for a new bond to settle in its place, similar as to what was happening with him and Steve. It would change his plans a bit but he was still confident in them. 

He turned his attention back to Clint. “Continue.”

“There’s not much more to tell. It feels like I’ve got two people in my skull, but they’re twisting up closer every day. Laura says I’ve changed a fair bit since the spell activated or whatever. Nat knows something’s going on but even she can’t guess being able to read a god’s mind.”

“How do we know you’re going to keep whatever secrets you’ve got safe?” Bucky interjected. 

“Part of the residual bond from the time past,” Loki mused. “I’ll have to look into it. Let us test it, in fact. Tell Bucky...hmm. What happened the night Thor received Mjolnir?”

Clint stiffened and turned his head slowly to look at Bucky. Slowly, in a strange grating tongue that sounded like rocks moving together, he attempted to explain how Loki had been fitful and jealous and had gone to his mother and when that had elected no positive response, he’d gone to the ceremony, put on a somewhat pleasant face, and then attempted to hide in his quarters for the rest of the night. Thor had found him and dragged him outside to show off his new weapon, and then, once they were back inside, Thor had pressed Mjolnir to his chest and had pushed him to the floor. His first night with Thor owning Mjolnir had been spent on the floor, unable to catch a full breath, ever on the edge of suffocation.

Loki stopped Clint halfway through his recital. “Do you know what language you were speaking?” 

Clint slowly came back to himself, eyes clearing. “Sir,” he began, his voice cracking. 

“The language of Jotunheim,” Loki interrupted, tapping his chin with his long pointer finger. “It is a language none of Midgard speak. Your infiltration of my mind must have given you the languages I speak. I believe the bond caused you to obey my order, but it also could not allow you to spill my secrets; thus, the hideous tongue that fell from your lips.” He flicked his gaze to Bucky, who was pale with horror. “Ah.” Loki floated closer. “How may I relieve you of your fear?”

“That was _mind control_ ,” Bucky snarled. “You gonna do that to me next?”

“Would you wish me to? I could quiet you, calm your mind. It would be different than the contortion that Clint’s bond has taken, but you would not be so...so distressed over your past actions.”

“God, no,” Bucky begged, and he looked frantically between them. “I can’t—I can’t be someone else anymore. How could you do that to him?”

“I did not,” Loki replied placidly. “It was not me. It was another version of me, who was also under the influence of the Mind Stone. Even if I had done such to him in this universe, could I be held completely accountable for my actions?”

Bucky hated how Loki’s voice calmed him, slowed his heart from its frantic pace. He pressed his hands to his cheeks, the cold of the metal something to focus on. Desperate, his gaze locked with Loki’s, and he was tired of living like this. It had been so much easier when all he had to do was as he was told. He did not wish to be that automaton again, that inhuman machine, but there was none to control him now, none to tell him his mission, his duty. He still did not know how to be Bucky Barnes. 

“Quiet,” Loki ordered, and his mind went blank. “Sit on the couch. _Now_.”

Bucky obliged, his feet moving through sludge. He dropped next to Clint, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands again. Cold fingers pressed to the back of his neck. Bucky let out a long, shuddering breath as another hand curled under his jaw and lifted his head out of his hands. “I apologize,” Loki murmured. “This was not in my plans. I had no reason to believe that the binding between us would have reignited when Thor’s spell malfunctioned. However, I cannot let a man with my secrets in his mind run around untethered. I must keep him.”

A warm, strong hand slid across Bucky’s back. He turned his head in Loki’s grasp to see Clint’s eyes on him, a guarded look on his face. “You’re both with me now,” Clint swore, and Bucky shuddered. He couldn’t look at the archer anymore, leaning back into Loki’s attention like the weak fish he was. 

“You can’t ever do that to me,” Bucky told Loki, who nodded immediately. 

“I swear to you that I will never enter your mind. I am already guaranteed your loyalty without having to resort to spells.”

“Good,” Bucky breathed. “Now stop fucking touching me.”

He was gifted with Loki’s bright smile as the god moved away from him. Clint’s hand also dropped from his back, and Bucky breathed easily for a moment. He looked up to Loki again, calm again. “He knows everything then.” There was no question in his tone.

Something sparked behind Loki’s eyes and he reached into the air, pulling out his green notebook. He opened it and then showed Clint a page. “What does this say?”

Clint furrowed his brow as he looked the page over. “It’s like I’m reading something in a language I learned when I was a kid or something, but forgot,” he mused. “I almost understand it, but I can’t figure it out.”

Loki preened, pulling the notebook back and looking down at it. “If I read something from this, do you see it in my mind?”

Clint concentrated as Bucky looked between them. “If you are directly reading it, I don’t understand it. If you think about it later, I can get a vague grasp on it. I understand the politics of Alfheim better than whatever that journal is.”

Tucking the journal away in one of his dimensions, Loki gave the two of them a smug smile as he looked between them. “Do you feel as if you have enough privacy now, Bucky?”

He shook his head but shrugged all the same. “I trust you, sir. Loki. I panic a bit easier than I used to, I guess. But neither of us can do anything about it.”

“I assure you, I have tried nearly everything I can think of.”

Clint nodded in agreement. “It’s all he’s been thinking about ever since he found out.” He leaned against the back of the couch, tapping his fingers on his thigh. “He’s hungry again. What you got for food in here?’

Clint managed to bully Bucky into helping him cook a small dinner for the three of them as Loki floated in the middle of the living room, deep in concentration as he tried to find the bond between he and Clint. It was nowhere to be found, not even in the depths of his soul. He had his old, withered bond to Stephen, a small spot of dull orange, nearly faded completely away. The grief of that was painful, a sharp cut in his heart, but he did not think on it. There were more important things to worry about.

His earlier prediction that Steve had begun to take over Thor’s position at the top of his soul was correct. Thor’s thunderous cloud was slowly being overtaken by a bright red and blue light, and Loki found that underneath Steve, his soul was quieter and calmer than ever before. It was not so riotous, the spinning vortex slowed and even stopped in some places. 

But nothing tied him to Clint, no bond that he could twist and break. He could feel the fury inside him that welled up, fury at his own helplessness, fury at the unplanned distraction, but he opened his eyes and did not allow it to overwhelm him. Self control was so much easier now. After so many centuries of attempting to convince himself that he was better underneath Thor, he was finally stretching into his true self without him. And now this. It was not something he wished to deal with, nor something he felt equipped to handle. Yet here he was.

Bucky handed him a plate and Loki slowly dropped to his feet, waving his hand at the destroyed kitchen table, taking a seat as it quickly repaired itself. He conjured a chalice of mead for each of them, and the three of them ate in silence. Bucky and Clint had made a good meal of baked chicken and some greens, and Loki did not want to breed discontent between them. He smirked at that thought; perhaps for the first time, he did not wish for chaos. 

Loki cleared his plate and floated it into the kitchen, patting his mouth with a napkin. He spread his fingers along his thigh and plucked at the threads of Steve’s shirt. “We are beginning the quest of ridding this world of HYDRA in the morn,” Loki told Bucky, who froze and refused to look at him. “I would ask if you would desire to join us,” he began, but Bucky cut him off.

“No,” he rasped, and Clint looked up from his own plate, blinking in shock at the raw agony in Bucky’s voice. “I go back to them, I’m not getting out alive.”

“Of course,” Loki placated. “I merely was going to ask if you wish to be updated.”

Bucky forced himself to swim through the fear and the rage, coming out on top of it with a strangled gasp. “All I care about is who you find. Give me their names at the end of it.”

Loki glanced to Clint, who nodded. “I’ll make a note for you, sir,” Clint replied to the unasked order. Loki pushed to his feet, stepping around the table to Bucky. 

“I will return,” Loki promised, and once Bucky nodded at him, Loki held out his hand. Clint tucked his own hand into Loki’s, and with a small flash of green light, they were both gone.

Bucky looked around his destroyed apartment and shook his head, throwing himself on the couch. He turned on some mindless TV show and picked up his black journal, writing until his fingers ached. 

His mind hurt, as did his heart. Beyond the pain, most of what he could feel was just exhaustion. He just wanted everything to be over, for whatever war this was to end, for him to be fixed and for the agony to leave. He was tired of the endless fight.

He had thought for a moment of going with them, of fighting the scientists and HYDRA agents that had taken him so completely apart. The threat of not knowing how easily they could overpower him and revert him to the Winter Soldier had been enough to stay him. He could not trust himself.

He pulled up the red journal and paged through it, tapping his fingers on the page.

Finally, he wrote: _I remember a book. It was red with a black star on the front._

Loki replied almost before Bucky could finish. _We will find it._


	13. CH13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is late! hope everyone enjoys it

“Language!”

“Pull the stick out of your ass, Cap,” Clint shot back, sharing an amused look with Loki. “Sure, boss.” He kicked the dead HYDRA agent off the end of his arrow and slid his bow down his arm, flipping it around and nocking the arrow in one smooth moment. He turned on his heel and shot the HYDRA agent coming up behind Loki. 

“I don’t know why I said that!” Steve yelled from the other room. “It just slipped out!”

“You curse all the time,” Loki mused from where he was floating in the hallway. He had already killed his quarter of the HYDRA agents and had tendrils of his seidr twisting all throughout the building, searching for information and weapons and the journal Bucky had mentioned. 

“You’re probably right,” Clint said out loud, and Sam yelled from the other room, Loki darting down the hall to help.

HYDRA had weaponized robotic arms with guns and lasers. Loki dropped out of the air to his feet, shaking throwing knives into his hands, yelling for Sam to duck as he threw them. He threw three knives, each of them cutting off the power supply to the robotic arms, and Sam brought up his weapon, shooting the small cameras in the corner of the ceiling. “Not bad!” Sam laughed, and Loki rolled his eyes, kicking down the last door.

Steve and Clint came up behind them, Steve panting slightly and Clint limping a bit, nocking another arrow as he stayed back.

The last room was the control room, and there was only one terrified agent left. He picked his handgun up from the desk he was sitting at, looked at the four of them, and called out, “Hail HYDRA!” and shot himself in the temple.

Loki stopped the bullet from exiting the gun and rendered it useless, crumpling it with his seidr, and Steve and Sam darted over, yanking the agent to the floor. Sam knelt next to the man, digging his knee into his shoulder, pressing a knife to this throat. “Don’t,” the agent begged. 

“You were perfectly willing to die only a moment ago,” Loki mused, and with a flick of his hand, Clint moved around the room, slinging his bow over his shoulder as he dug through the various cabinets and looked through the few computers.

“What was HYDRA doing here?” Sam barked. 

“I saw files on something called an Inhuman,” Steve started, and Loki froze, shoving Sam and Steve out of the way, lifting the agent up with one hand around his neck.

“So you are the worshippers of the Hell-beast,” Loki mused, and then tightened his hand. “Even worse scum than I had believed.”

“No! Don’t kill him, not yet,” Clint yelled, darting over from the other side of the room. He showed Steve and Sam what he had found, and Loki turned his head to look at the three of them. “I know,” Clint said, his voice quiet, “I know what they did to you. But we have to talk to him first.”

Loki dropped the man, wiping his hands on his tunic with a disgusted look on his face. He turned to Clint. “You take care of him,” he ordered, and yanked the paper from Steve’s hand, glaring down at it. 

Clint hooked the guy behind the knee and he dropped to the floor, flickering between fury and desperation. Sam and Steve exchanged curious glances and then Sam shrugged, holstering his guns and sitting down at the computer the agent had been at, printing out a few files and looking through it. Steve turned his attention back to the agent, glancing worriedly over at Loki a few times. Loki rummaged through a few filing cabinets while Clint interrogated the agent.

Their small compound had been basically a huge homing beacon for whatever was left of the Inhumans that HYDRA worshipped. They had been developing technology for decades in order to try to find Alveus again, or another Hive member, something that Loki clearly found more than distasteful. They were also looking for more wormholes in space, and were working on some kind of resurrection technology for Johann Schmidt. HYDRA’s technology was far more advanced than what Loki had previously seen on Midgard, but he was still mostly unimpressed, especially given that HYDRA couldn’t even figure out where Red Skull had been sent. 

Clint finally slit the agent’s throat and Steve helped him to his feet. 

“It’s nothing interesting,” Loki said to Steve’s unasked question. “I merely...know of the Hell-beast.” He turned to Clint. “Tell me.”

“Uh, guys?” Sam interrupted, and the three of them huddled around him at the computer. He was going through the cameras from before they had broken in and, to their surprise, there had been far more agents in the compound up until about an hour before they had arrived. He pulled up a deleted email from an unknown sender that outlined when the four of them were going to arrive.

“We have a mole,” Steve muttered, rubbing at his forehead. “I’ll have to tell Tony.”

Sam printed out a few more things and then plugged in a thumb drive he had been carrying, one that Stark had given him that would copy everything on the servers and then wipe them. Stark would upload the information to an air-gapped computer to counteract any potential viruses, and he and Banner would go through all of the files. They silently dug around the computer room for a few more minutes, Sam struggling briefly with putting the papers he had printed into his pocket dimension, and then they all shrugged at each other and followed Steve out of the compound. 

Loki hung back with Clint, picking at his left palm, ducking his head into each room they passed.

“I didn’t see it anywhere,” Clint told him, pulling on Loki’s arm when the god tried to turn around to look in a room they had already passed. “The book isn’t here.” He paused and sighed as Steve and Sam ducked throgh the hole in the wall they had come through. “I understand, sir, I really do.”

“Do you?” Loki spit out with a snarl, stalking up on Clint, shoving him against a wall. “You claim to have my memories, you _claim_ that there is a bond between us, one I cannot find, yet you somehow did not tell me this before? You spent over a _year_ , nearly two of them, knowing what he was doing to me, feeling for yourself how I had spent my life, and only now you come to me?” He shook his head, stepped back.

“Sir,” Clint tried, reaching out, “I know how it feels.”

“Whatever scheme this is, whatever your plan is, Barton, I won’t be party to it!”

Clint reached out again, undeterred. “Sir, I don’t have anything to gain from this,” he swore. “I am only here for you. When everyone else leaves, I’ll still be here. I don’t have a choice.”

Snarling, Loki stepped up and pushed his palm to Clint’s forehead.

Clint willingly split himself open so Loki could peer inside him. He had no other choice.

Loki rummaged through him, digging through his insides and his guts and his brain, yanking through his brain and delving down into Clint’s soul. It was different than others Loki had seen, given the man had no seidr, but the man was simple enough to understand. Most mortals were. Most souls were massive, clouded in seidr and rippling with bonds. Humans were different. It took a bit of looking to find Clint’s soul hiding behind his heart, a small, gentle thing. He pet his fingers over it and it quivered, but opened to him, knowing he already owned it.

Loki pressed his thumbs to Clint’s soul and it shook, splitting down the middle as he cradled it. It took him a few moments to realize that the bonds on human’s souls worked differently; instead of shafts of light or small pockets, there were flutters. Wings, almost. Affection that took flight.

Clint had a great deal of them, the strongest to his wife and children, and then to Natasha, and smaller ones to the rest of the Avengers, and other operatives at SHIELD. As he had been expecting, there was nothing binding him to Loki. This _fraud._ Whatever his plan was—

He snarled, dug his fingers in deep, and Clint’s soul quivered, spilling between his fingers, huddling beneath him. He pressed seidr to it and the soul splintered, a great shaft of green light arcing from beneath it. He had been looking in the wrong place. He swept up into Clint’s mind, stepping into the welcome abyss of it. There was no where he was not welcome, no where that Clint would not let him see. He did not understand.

_I know you_ , Clint’s mind murmured to him. _I belong to you._

He stepped closer, travelling down a long worn path to something precious, something that Clint kept sacred. The door before him opened.

Before him, a past version of himself curled against a wall, his Scepter in his hand. His eyes were bright blue, sunken in pale flesh, his breathing harsh. He reached out for himself, but the memory-Clint pushed his hand aside, stepping around him to bring memory-Loki a small bowl.

“Sir,” memory-Clint muttered, and his thoughts flooded through the room. _My master is hungry, I can feel it. Yet he refuses food. Yet he will not let me care for him. My master needs me, yet pushes me away._ “Please eat.”

Memory-Loki turned his head away from the bowl, but cautiously put a hand on Clint’s, eyes slowly shutting at the contact. He barely remembered this, all that time ago, where he had could hardly remember what it felt like to be touched without pain, where he was frantic and feral and only wanted to go home, but there was no home, there was _nothing_ for him, because he was not of Asgard, he was not of Jotunheim, he was _nothing_ , but yet, here was this man, this unassuming man who cared for him when he had every reason to do otherwise. _I am his_ , memory-Clint thought, and the belief was so powerful and held so true that he kept it with him through however many various lives he took, however many dimensions he lived in, however long he was a person upon the earth.

The memory faded, the door shut.

Loki turned and left.

He opened his eyes to see that they had both dropped to their knees, foreheads pressed together. Sam and Steve were standing off to the side, Sam stopping in the action of pulling out his phone. 

“Good lord,” Steve muttered, dropping to his own knees next to Loki, dipping his fingers under the collar of Loki’s shirt to check his pulse. “You two just dropped back here ten minutes ago. Was there a poison or something in the air? Or some kind of—”

“It wasn’t poison,” Sam noted, helping Clint to his feet, slinging the archer’s arm over his shoulders. “We can talk about this once we’re picked up, Cap.”

Steve picked up Loki in his arms and the four of them ducked out of the compound, and up the collapsed wall, and out into the street. Loki pressed his face into Steve’s neck, pulling comfort from the man, and Steve slowly dropped him to his feet, wrapping his arms around Loki’s trembling shoulders. “How bad was it?” Steve murmured, tugging off his helmet. He helped Loki into the car that rolled up for them, and nodded at Clint and Sam when they decided to take the next car that Stark sent.

The driver told them that they were going to Avengers Tower and then rolled up the partition, leaving Steve to carefully wrap his arms around Loki and pull him into his lap. Loki tolerated the contact for a few minutes and then slid to the floor, leaning his cheek on Steve’s thigh, bringing his hand up so they could intertwine their fingers. “I believed once that no one could belong more fully to another being than how I belonged to Thor,” Loki finally admitted, and his eyes fluttered shut as Steve pulled off his gloves and pet his fingers through his hair.

“And yet?” he prompted quietly. 

Loki turned into his touch. “I own him.” He sighed softly and settled more comfortably at Steve’s feet, apparently content in the cramped confines of the floor of the town car. “Every one of his molecules, every one of his cells, his thoughts, his beliefs, all are mine. He is barely a person.”

“Did the Mind Stone do that?”

He drummed his fingers on Steve’s thigh, slowly opening his eyes. “Somewhat. I believe it began it, and my seidr panicked when Thor bound us. I was so pushed down and repressed from living under him that I probably didn’t even notice it.” He sighed, pushed his head further into Steve’s hand. “I could not find a bond between us because I am not bound to him. It is very rare for something so powerful to only go one way, but somehow it happened. I...I find myself at a loss, Captain. I do not know where to go from here.”

Steve looked down at the god at his feet. He was not the type to take pleasure from subjugating others, or from the pain of those beneath him. Yet here Loki was, in agony, begging for help, and he could do nothing. He sighed, cradled Loki’s jaw in his hands. “Loki,” he murmured, leaning forward to ghost a kiss over Loki’s forehead. “I don’t think there’s an answer. We just have to keep going forward.”

“There’s always an answer,” Loki grumbled, but he let Steve pull him up onto the seat, leaning into Steve’s side as the soldier slung his arm over his shoulders. “Clint does not seem to mind, nor his wife. I...enjoy being owned,” he admitted quietly, and Steve pulled him closer. “Yet I still fight it, because I am incapable of doing otherwise. I cannot have peace in my soul; it is incongruous with who I am. So I cannot understand how he can just _accept_ it.” He was growing angrier, ducking away from Steve, squeezing his fists together, green seidr slipping from between his fingers.

Without hesitation, Steve leaned forward and grabbed the back of Loki’s neck, pushing him to the floor of the car. “Calm down,” he ordered. Loki snarled at him but stayed down. Steve took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, letting it out slowly. “This isn’t about you.” Loki grumbled but Steve squeezed his neck, causing him to go quiet again. “It’s about him. You don’t want to be Thor, and treat someone else the way he treated you. But Clint isn’t giving you a choice. He could’ve said nothing, you know.” Loki grumbled again but Steve let him. “It doesn’t matter _why_. You take what you’re given and you keep moving. Understand?”

He released Loki as the car came to a slow stop. “Understood, my Captain,” Loki grumbled, and the partition rolled down. 

“We’ve arrived, sirs,” the driver told them, and Steve opened the door, helping Loki out of the car, ignoring the way the god was obnoxiously sulking behind him. 

They waited for the second town car to roll up, Steve opening the door and stepping back as Sam and Clint tumbled out, the two of them in the middle of an argument. Steve immediately shut them down, physically dragging Sam away.

Loki lowly called Clint’s name and he shot Sam another glare and then came over, glancing over Loki to make sure he was okay before standing behind him. “Doesn’t like my fashion choices,” Clint muttered and Loki rolled his eyes.

Steve talked Sam down and then the four of them turned their attention to Stark as he exited the elevator. They had been dropped off in the parking garage beneath Avengers Tower, next to Stark’s private entrance. Loki glanced around the various cars and glanced inside the closest one as Sam handed Stark the thumb drive and Steve told him that their mission had been routine.

Clint hovered behind him as Stark called Loki’s name, and he turned around, raising an eyebrow at the man. “What kind of tricks did you pull this time, big fella?” Loki grimaced at the nickname but turned his attention to Stark as the five of them walked to the elevator.

“The agreement we made was for each of us to take down approximately one-fourth of the opponents in the compound,” Loki replied, frowning at the way the elevator creaked as it started to rise up.

“Not used to so much man meat,” Stark offered, and both Sam and Clint groaned and then glared at each other. Steve rolled his eyes.

“I estimated that there were thirty HYDRA agents in the—”

“Loki, I’m going to die of boredom before we reach my penthouse,” Stark interrupted. “Do you do anything interesting?”

Loki pretended to think about it. “I unzipped a man,” he offered, and Stark’s eyes widened before he glanced over Loki with a fascinated look on his face.

“His pants or…?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Essentially I tore him in two. I merely thought _unzipped_ was a more...riveting term.”

The elevator stopped and they exited, Stark looking around them with a shocked look on his face. “Really?”

Steve shrugged. “He’s done worse,” he offered, and then glanced around Stark’s penthouse. “Are we reporting to you, Tony?”

“I want to hear more about you unzipping a man,” Stark told Loki, who looked bored by the proposition, but then he turned to Steve and nodded, leading them down the hall into the main conference room. There was a laptop on the table. Stark waved them all to sit and took his own seat in front of the laptop.

Clint waited until Loki was comfortable in his chair before ducking out of the room.

While waiting for the laptop to boot up, Stark turned his attention back to Loki, who was pulling clothes out of a pocket dimension for Steve and Sam, and berating the two of them for not thinking of using their own magical pockets for a change of clothes. Then Sam made a comment about Loki taking care of Steve, who blushed, and Loki snickered, using seidr to change his own outfit from his Asgardian battle wear to more comfortable loungewear. 

Steve and Sam both excused themselves to go change.

Green eyes slowly moved around the room and then focused on Stark, who looked innocently across the table at him. “You never finished your explanation on how you could unzip someone,” Stark offered into the silence between them. He had always been uncomfortable around Loki. Something about the god was creepy, especially with the way Cap seemed to like him so much. 

Loki leaned back in his chair, kicking his socked feet up onto the table. “We call it _blodorn_. Essentially it is a spell that does one of two things, depending on the amount of power put behind it. The lesser spell will cause a deep wound from the tip of a man’s head all the way down to his groin. Unzipping him. Death in a minute or less.”

Stark looked equal parts disgusted and horrified. “Dare I ask what the more powerful version does?” He tapped a few keys on the laptop and then plugged in the thumb drive.

“It is similar to the human torture of the blood-eagle,” Loki offered up with a casual wave of his hand. Stark thought about that for a moment and then looked nauseous before calling for JARVIS and asking for a bottle of water. A small part in the middle of the conference table depressed and then another platform of the same size raised up with the requested bottle of water.

Loki hummed, dropping his feet from the table, and he leaned forward over it with a curious expression on his face. “Interesting!” he exclaimed. “The Voice in the Wall brings you these things? How so?”

Stark rubbed at his chin. “Someone who works for me refills a container under the table with various drinks, and they’re programmed into JARVIS so that he knows where they are. Like a vending machine.”

Frowning, Loki dropped back down to his seat. “How very boring. Predictable of you, I suppose.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped through it.

“Boring? Me? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

Loki didn’t even look up from his phone. “I’ve spent 1500 years on Asgard. We throw parties that last for weeks over anything we can think of. One time my brother heard that an Einherjar in training had gone for a routine patrol in the woods and had come across a slumbering bear. He killed that bear and dragged it back to the palace. We had a celebration over that act of...heroism for nearly a month.” He tipped his head back to look at the three men that came back into the room, lifting his chin so Steve could more easily drop a kiss to his cheek before going back to stand behind Stark and see what he’d found on the thumb drive from the HYDRA compound. “Stark, you would be hard pressed to impress me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stark swore, and then Steve pointed something out on the screen and they all paid attention to that. It was blueprints for one of the HYDRA satellites. Loki rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his phone. He took a few pictures of the three men all looking down at the computer, with Stark in the middle and Steve and Sam on either side of them, serious looks on their faces. He posted it on Instagram and then tucked his phone away as Clint came back into the room, holding a heavily laden platter in his hand.

He put the plate in front of Loki and took the seat to his right, pulling one of the small plates off the platter and filling it with various foods from the charcuterie board. Loki took the filled plate and ate a few bites of smoked meat before giving Clint a pleased smile. Clint nodded and looked across the table, ignoring the hand that dropped to his shoulder and the long fingers that pet through his hair. 

“Anything we missed?” he queried, pushing the platter across the table. Stark groaned about scratches on his table but he took a few bites of cheese. Both Steve and Sam turned it down, Sam shooting Loki and Clint a curious look, but then he shrugged and ignored it.

“We’ll write up our reports and Tony can compare them to what he finds,” Steve finally decided, looking over what Stark had on the screen before looking back at Loki, who was studiously ignoring everyone else in the room in favor of petting Clint, who was looking simultaneously pleased and trying to ignore Loki in favor of his job. “How about we all meet up tomorrow.”

Stark agreed with that and closed the laptop, giving all of them a cheery goodbye before darting out of the room. Steve sighed and turned to Sam. “Need a ride home?”

Sam shook his head and chuckled. “Naw, I’ll get a taxi. Text me when we’re all gonna meet up here.” He clapped Steve on the back, waved goodbye to Loki and then left the conference room, tapping on his phone. 

Loki dropped his hand from Clint’s hair and turned his attention to Steve. “Home, my dear?”

Steve nodded and came across the table to wrap his hand around the back of Loki’s neck. Clint obediently held out his hand and Loki took it, and then he reached through time and space to deposit the three of them in Steve’s apartment.

Loki sprawled out on the couch and Clint ducked into the spare room to change out of his gear. Steve lifted Loki’s head and sat down, lowering Loki’s head into his lap. “You didn’t just go from hating a bond with someone to physical affection,” Steve noted, and Loki rolled his eyes. 

“He didn’t hate it,” Clint called from the spare room. “He was jealous.” He ducked his head out and gave Steve a sheepish smile. “You got a shirt I can borrow?”

Steve waved him to his bedroom, and Clint ducked across the room. “I wanted an insight into your head,” Steve told him, a note of amusement in his voice. “Didn’t realize I just had to ask Barton for one.”

Clint came out of the bedroom and ducked into the kitchen. “I won’t tell you anything he doesn’t trust you with,” he commented. “He just doesn’t know how to make that last step of actually telling you, so I guess I get to do it.” He looked in the fridge. “Christ, you two ever eat? Barnes had more food.”

“When were—you saw Bucky?”

Loki sighed and pulled out his phone again, holding it up in the air so Clint could come by and grab it. “He knows everything,” Loki muttered, turning his face into Steve’s stomach. Clint dropped down into the armchair and tapped through Loki’s phone to find a restaurant. 

“We both want sushi, how about you, Cap?”

“What is it with you and sushi?” Steve grumbled, motioning for Loki to hand him the TV remote. “How about this, you two get whatever you want. I want a goddamn cheeseburger.” He sighed and turned the TV on. “I’m tired. I just want to watch TV with my...boyfriend and his, what, bodyguard? And not think about anything. Can you give me that? Just for tonight?”

Clint shrugged and Loki stretched. “Sure, Cap,” Clint said, and Loki waved over a blanket.

“Of course, my dear,” Loki purred, and he brought up his hand to tangle with Steve’s. 

It was strange, to be so comfortable. He trusted both of the men with him, strange enough of a thought as that was, especially for Loki, who trusted so rarely. He cared deeply for Steve, which was a feeling that was only enhanced by the bond they shared. Clint...he wasn’t going to think about it. It was like having a particularly angry yet smart dog.

Clint snorted. “Food will be here in about 45 minutes.” He tapped through a few more screens in Loki’s phone and then tossed it back, pulling his own phone out of his pocket and making a call. He ducked into the spare room but left the door cracked so he could see them on the couch.

It was strange, to have someone who knew him so intimately. It was stranger still to have it be someone he would not have chosen, not in this lifetime. He remembered caring for Clint, in the lives before, in the same way he imagined someone would care for a pet of a relative. He enjoyed the man’s devotion to him, but it was still foisted upon him. And given that there was no reciprocity, he still could not be certain that it was genuine. He had been in the man’s mind, had held his very soul, but Loki was still hesitant.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Clint muttered from the next room, and then he opened the door further so he could bring his phone up and take a picture of them on the couch. He threw Loki a wink and then turned his back, bringing the phone back up to his ear. 

Loki brought up the blanket so it was covering his head. Steve untangled his hand from Loki’s and rested his palm over Loki’s ear so he wouldn’t have to overhear the conversation. His Captain was so good to him. He didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve any of this.

Steve tugged the blanket off his face but kept his palm over his ear, the tips of his fingers gently tracing over Loki’s face. His eyes slowly shuttered shut, stretching out further, turning over so his face was pressed into Steve’s stomach, rucking his hands up under the man’s shirt. 

Kicking his feet up on the coffee table, Steve split his attention between the repeat of the baseball game on TV and the quiet conversation that Clint wasn’t bothering to hide. He was telling someone a very toned down version of their mission, mostly what Loki had been doing. He wondered what it was like for Loki, to be so private and secretive, having someone so deep inside his mind. 

Clint hung up the phone and came back out, shrugging at Steve’s raised eyebrow. “Who was that?” Steve queried.

“He didn’t tell you?” Clint replied slowly, and Steve shook his head. “Huh.” He looked down at Loki. “Is he asleep?”

He slid his hand off Loki’s ear and down into his hair. “I think so.” Steve kept his eyes on the TV as he asked, “What’s it like, being in his mind?”

Clint shrugged. “I only know what it’s like in my own head and his, so not too many points of comparison. But my head has always been quiet, focused. He gets all over the place, frantic, paranoid. He had a run-in with those Inhumans a few centuries ago, when he was about six- or seven-hundred years old.”

“He wouldn’t want you telling me this,” Steve interrupted, but Clint just shook his head.

“He doesn’t care what you know. He would prefer it was you in my position, actually.” Steve blinked a few times, shocked. “You’re the first person that really cared about him just for him in as long as he can remember. Everyone else wanted something.”

“What about Stephen? He still loves him.” Steve was trying not to be bitter about that, even though it was stupid and nonsensical; he had Bucky, Loki had Stephen, they were just _pretending_ , even as it felt more real to be with Loki than anything before in his life. 

Clint briefly frowned. “Stephen...Stephen isn’t a good man. Or wasn’t. Loki loved him, as well as he could when he was the only other option besides Thor.” Steve made a thoughtful sound in response. “I think you think you know what it was like living under Thor. I think you have a somewhat decent idea, but you don’t really _know._ ” He looked at Loki, curled in Steve’s lap, and Steve watched in surprise as his face softened with affection. “It was torture. Torture he had to ask for, because he would self destruct without it. If you asked, he’d probably show you.”

“Stephen?” Steve prompted.

Clint sighed. “Given a chance, Loki could love him again. But he cares for you more.”

“Huh.” 

The doorbell rang and Loki jerked awake as Clint got up to get their food, handing the delivery person an extra big tip for getting Steve’s order as well. He shut the front door and then brought the bags to the coffee table.

“Are you going to feed me?” Loki purred into Steve’s stomach, and he chuckled, pushing Loki’s hair out of his face. 

“I have to feed myself,” Steve replied, a soft smile on his face, and he pushed Loki off his lap so he could take the bag with his food in it. Loki rolled his eyes and waved his hand at Clint, who quickly put together a paper plate of food for him.

Loki leaned against Steve as they both ate, Loki’s dark gaze settled heavily on Clint, who took a few fries from Steve and made his own plate of sushi, dropping back into the armchair. 

The three of them ate in comfortable quiet, Clint refilling Loki’s plate every so often until the god was full. Steve finished his food and offered the fries to Clint, who happily ate them, and then he excused himself to shower and go to bed.

“He’s growing on you,” Steve noticed. Loki shrugged lightly.

“He knows what I want before I ask. How could I not enjoy that?”

He floated their trash to the kitchen and then dimmed the lights, laying down again with his head in Steve’s lap. He pulled a book from the ether and floated it a foot above his face, just low enough that it didn’t interfere with Steve’s field of vision.

Steve watched TV for a few more hours before he found himself nodding off, and then he and Loki went to bed, the two of them curling up together under the furs.


	14. CH14

Steve handed Tony their reports from their raid on the HYDRA compound from the day before. Likewise, Tony handed Steve a thick folder that he had printed out from the HYDRA servers. Sam also handed over a copy of the documents he had printed off, and the five of them took various seats around Tony’s living room. The other Avengers were going to join them shortly, but Steve had gotten them all there early to go through what Tony had found.

Tony paged through Sam’s pages and nodded. “I figured they had a safeguard against copying their systems,” he mused, and pulled out a piece of paper from his pile, comparing it to Sam’s paper. Steve leaned over from his seat next to Tony and nodded. “It seems copying triggered a virus that removed personal details or descriptions,” Tony noted. “Strangely enough, we found some mentions of Thor that weren’t redacted by the virus. Not quite sure what to think about all that.” He glanced at Steve. “Cap, anyway you guys can go back?”

Steve shrugged, looking through the folder. “Loki could probably manage, but we were being monitored. I assume they’ve burned it all by now.”

“Loki!” Tony called, and the god looked across the room at him, an eyebrow raised. “Can you hop back to the HYDRA compound for me? Check out their computers?”

Loki pushed to his feet, Clint shadowing him as he sauntered across the room. “For you, Stark? No.” He smirked. Tony rolled his eyes. “Does my Captain ask it of me?”

Steve fought down a smile. “Yes. Tell us what you find.”

Loki inclined his head and disappeared, Clint leaning over Steve and peering down at his papers. “It hasn’t been burned,” Clint told them, and when Tony swung his head around to stare at him, Clint shrugged and took the seat to Steve’s right. Steve obligingly pushed over some of the papers and Clint paged through them. “Actually, everything is the exact same as we left it yesterday. Somehow HYDRA knew we would be coming, but hasn’t come to clean up. What was that about Thor?”

“It’s a trap,” Steve realized, and Clint nodded.

“He knows. He’s not...I don’t know how to explain it. He’s there but he’s not present.”

“Shadow walking?” Tony tried, and Clint frowned.

“Similar. He calls it world walking. Like he’s in the space between spaces. It feels like...impermanence. I don’t know how to describe it.”

Natasha and Bruce walked into the room, and the screen across the room flickered with Rhodes’s face. Clint immediately got up to talk to Natasha, and Bruce came over to see what they were reading, Tony handing him a packet of papers. Bruce took a seat across from them and paged through them, a frown on his face.

“This was you guys? How many agents were there?”

“Around thirty,” Steve replied. “The videos showed almost fifty before nearly half of them cleared out before we arrived. I don’t know who else you’re showing this stuff to, but HYDRA knew we were coming.”

“Everything gets scanned by Pepper and uploaded to JARVIS,” Tony replied, a frown on his face. “JARVIS, run _Project Abraham._ ”

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS replied, and the lights flickered briefly, the room going quiet.

“Abraham?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Tony replied distractedly. “He would have killed his son for God. Felt like it fit.”

Clint and Natasha exchanged an amused look and then came closer, Steve pushing a folder across the table to Natasha. She took the seat next to Bruce and Clint hovered behind her, glancing between her and Steve.

“He’s going through the computers,” Clint said into the uncomfortable silence. “Whatever trap HYDRA has planted, they haven’t gotten him yet.”

He gasped, and then fell to the floor.

A burst of pain exploded in Steve’s chest, but he pushed past it, darting around the table to push past Natasha and Bruce to press his hand to Clint’s chest. At his touch, Clint gasped and his eyes flashed open, grabbing Steve’s hand. “He’s hurt,” he breathed, and then the lights came back on. “He’s coming.”

“Nothing to report,” JARVIS told Tony, who frowned.

“That’s not the response I programmed,” he muttered, and whipped out his Starkphone. He typed away as everyone else focused on Clint, who leaned into Steve’s chest, panting loudly. 

“What happened?” Steve pressed, and he barely stopped himself from pushing Natasha away as she knelt next to Clint, reaching out for him. 

“A great flash of light, hot. He had pushed seidr into the computer, trying to find the virus. It found him first, HYDRA knew he was coming.” He groaned and dug his fingers into Steve’s chest. “It’s a long journey, but he cannot heal between spaces.”

“SHIELD hacked into JARVIS,” Tony announced, and attention in the room swung to him. “I knew they had some entry into my system, but I didn’t know they got this deep. SHIELD is the mole.”

“HYDRA knows everything we know,” Steve groaned, and he handed Clint off to Natasha, who slowly led him to the nearest couch. Bruce went with them, taking Clint’s vitals. Steve turned to Tony. “You have to turn it off. They could be watching us.”

A brief flicker of green light, and Loki appeared, falling to his knees at the far side of the room. He was severely burned, half his hair gone, one of his eyes melting down his cheek, red covering his tattered clothes, bones glinting through the skin on his shaking hands. There were abrasions over his cheeks, dark blood seeping from his mouth, wetting his chin as he screamed and screamed and Steve cried out his name and ran to him and reached for him, their hands touching, then they were gone.

“They went home,” Clint gasped, and his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.

Tony went to the computer he kept on a desk near his bar. He shook his head and typed in a few lines of code, and JARVIS slowly shut down, the tower being taken over by Tony’s back-up system. “This meeting didn’t go as planned,” Tony griped, and he went over to help Bruce and Natasha carry Clint to a guest room.

* * *

“You need a doctor,” Steve muttered, cutting through Loki’s tunic and pants with a knife, pinning the thrashing god to the bed so he didn’t cut him. “Loki, Christ.”

“None on Midgard can heal me,” Loki gasped. He barely looked human; he was all red flesh and muscle and blood and tears. His voice was in tatters, every word coming out between an agonized gasp. Tears leaked out of his one functional eye, wetting the sheets and blankets beneath him. “I need Asgardian healers, but Asgard is still closed to me. If you tell me to, I can heal myself. But it will be—it will hurt. But I must be ordered.”

Steve didn’t hesitate. He carefully pulled Loki’s tattered clothes off and stood over the god, cradling what unburnt parts of his head that he could find. Loki bared his bloody teeth and clenched his jaw and stared up at him with his one remaining eye. “Fix yourself,” Steve ordered, his voice bordering on a yell. “Heal.”

Loki screamed, and in Avengers Tower, Clint screamed as well.

Green seidr burst from Loki’s form and flooded the room.

Blue flesh overtook white, and Steve hissed as the air around him immediately grew cold. He drew back, lowly calling out Loki’s name, shaking the cold out of his hands. “You have some kind of pain relief, right?” Steve tried. “Make it stop hurting. _Please_ stop yelling.”

Loki gasped, arching off the bed, clear white skin fading over the blue, and he reached out for Steve as his flesh rapidly healed, his hair growing out. His eye fixed itself, and lower, his scars healed over, and one of the burns on his stomach healed into a scar shaped vaguely like a star, which Steve’s hand grazed over, something in his gut settling as Loki breathed easier. Green eyes met blue.

“It was a trap,” Loki gasped. “They knew. I saw...Thor’s name before the explosion. I _saw_ it.”

“Tony is looking into it,” Steve promised. “He’ll find out who it was, who did this to you, why they knew Thor.”

Carefully, as if he was touching precious jewels, Steve leaned over Loki and slotted their mouths together.

Loki pressed back up into him, his eyes sliding shut as he twisted his arms around Steve’s broad shoulders. Steve cupped his face and moved back. 

“How long have you wished to do that?” Loki murmured, tipping his head back against the pillow. His body ached; he wanted to sleep for a month. He grimaced as his own blood seeped into his healed skin. His wrists ached.

“Awhile,” Steve admitted. “It’s...it’s not fake anymore, is it.” There wasn’t a question in his voice, and Loki dragged his eyes open, pressing his fingers into his wrists, trying to massage the hurt away. The scars from his previous capture remained.

“Was it ever?” he replied with a rasp, and kicked away his cut-off pants. “You have healing potions in your seidrspace. I am not well enough to access my own.” Steve helped him sit up so he could pull away the sodden and ruined sheets, wrapping a towel around Loki’s shivering shoulders.

Steve brushed Loki’s hair away from his face and rubbed the strands between his fingers. “As you wish,” he promised, and leaned forward to press another kiss to the corner of Loki’s mouth. Loki flashed him a small smile and then his eyes fluttered shut. He turned away from the slumbering god and called forward his pocket dimension, reaching inside it. There was his extra uniform, a few changes of clothes, even a few extra meals. Behind a bag of chips, he found a small cloth bag, and he pulled it out. 

Opening it, he found a few round vials. They were all filled with various colors and consistencies of potions, and he shook Loki’s shoulder. “You need to wake up,” he ordered quietly, and Loki yawned, green eyes cracking open. 

“Yes, dear?” he murmured, turning his face back into his pillow.

“Which one is the potion you need to drink?”

“Blue one,” Loki muttered, he turned back around, obediently opening his mouth as Steve poured it in.

He quickly fell back asleep and Steve closed the bag, putting it back in the pocket dimension, and after a bit of difficulty, he sent it away.

He turned back to Loki.

He had hung his hat for so long on Bucky, had loved him so dearly. But now—now he could not look past Loki. His moon and stars. Carefully, he pulled off his shirt and slid in the bed next to Loki. It was early afternoon but he didn’t want to be anywhere other than here. Even as his responsibilities pulled at him, he took a deep breath and put Loki first.

“I love you,” he whispered into oiled hair. “I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

Somewhere in the air around them, a loud tone sounded.

Steve _pulled_ and reached into the ether and his fingers found Loki’s green journal.

As soon as he touched the cover, he disappeared.

He landed on the couch in a small apartment.

_Bucky._

A metal hand swung at him, and he caught it. Barely. “Bucky,” he cried out, “it’s Steve.”

The metal hand fell away and Bucky darted in front of him, hands grabbing Steve’s shoulders. “Steve, holy—what are you doing here? It’s been...”

“How the hell are you, man?” Steve asked, unable to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes, and he wrapped his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him close. “Hell, I missed you.”

Bucky pulled back first, ducking across the room, huddling against the wall. He tried to look confident but Steve knew him too well—“Where’s Loki?”

“He went back to the HYDRA base and got caught in a bomb. He’s resting right now.” Steve went to push to his feet but Bucky’s wide eyes stopped him.

“Steve, I...I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I didn’t realize the journal would bring me here. Is the door open? I’ll leave. I don’t want to stress you.” He grinned slightly. “God, it’s good to see you. You look...better.”

Bucky took a few deep breaths and nodded to himself, straightening up. “The last guy who showed up here without warning was Barton. I just reacted on instinct.” He sighed again and moved closer. “I guess I’m sorry I didn’t want to see you before this.”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll leave if you wa—Barton was here?” He pushed to his feet and glanced around. Loki had set Bucky up in a small place, but it was well-furnished, and comfortable. The bookshelf next to the TV was full, overflowing even, and there was a scent in the air of cooked food. Bucky was at least content here, if not happy. He was doing well.

“You ask about me a lot, Loki tells me” Bucky tried, moving closer. “I’m doing better, a lot better.”

Steve retook his place on the couch, pulling the blanket that was thrown over the back over his naked chest, a bit uncomfortable. Bucky shook his head and ducked into his bedroom, throwing Steve a shirt, which he quickly pulled on. “You thirsty?”

Steve shook his head and Bucky pulled up a kitchen chair on the other side of the coffee table. “He’s gonna be alright?” Bucky questioned, picking up his journals and rearranging the books on the table into more orderly stacks. 

Steve nodded. “He’s all healed up, he just needs to rest. I gave him a healing potion of some kind, I think it put him to sleep.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You’re really okay? Well, okay enough?”

Bucky gave him a tight smile. “I’m making it through the day right now. Better than I was.” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “It’s rough, Steve, I’ll tell you that much. I remember more every day, and every memory is worse than the one before. Writing helps.” He motioned towards the books. “Reading helps. Loki helps, when he’s here.”

Steve let out a long breath and gave his old friend a small smile. “I’m glad. That’s all I want, for you to get better.”

Bucky gave him a small smile and slowly relaxed into his chair. “Steve, I don’t know who I am anymore. Sometimes I remember myself, but it’s rare. More rare than I’d like to admit. I can’t give you anything.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want anything, Buck. I just want you to know I’m here for you, even if that means we see each other once a year.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “I feel like I’m still supposed to be protecting you, but look at you, kid. You’re doing fine without me.”

“Only thing you gotta do right now is to get better.”

Bucky grinned, unable to stop himself. “Loki tells me the same thing.” He leaned forward. “Hey, what’s he like? How’d you get that?”

Chuckling, Steve shrugged one shoulder. “He knows what he wants. I just give it to him.”

“He never gives me a chance to say no, you know. He just tells me what to do and there’s no room for argument.”

Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and leaned in close. “Turns out,” he said, a bit nervous, like he was baring his soul, “I like that.”

Bucky tipped his head back and laughed. “You dog! He’s not too bad to look at, I’ll give you that, even though he could use a bath.”

Steve grinned. “He actually showers almost every day. Well, he takes baths. But his hair looks like that on purpose. I can’t figure out why, but he puts all these oils in it. He also covers his skin with some kind of lotion that makes him look like he hasn’t bathed in a month.”

“Every day? Hell, we’re in a different time.” Bucky shook his head. “Remember how we used to have to save on water? We’d each take a five minute shower once a week, and we’d wipe down with a sponge every couple days. I remember thinking army showers were luxurious.”

“I forgot about all that,” Steve admitted, thinking about it. “I guess I never really thought about it.”

“You never had to pay any of the bills! You just went to school and got sick all the time.”

“I would’ve had a job,” Steve tried, but Bucky waved him off.

“You couldn’t have held down a job for a week. You barely made it to class half the time. You only passed any of your classes because the teachers felt sorry for you.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I only passed _mostly_ because they felt sorry for me. The other part was how good I am at drawing.”

“I remember you needing some paints that cost $10 for some class, and you—” Bucky cut himself off and rubbed at his mouth. Steve froze. He remembered that day; Bucky had asked _What’s in it for me?_ when Steve had coughed through asking for money, and Steve had grinned at him and gone to his knees, licking up Bucky’s dick until he came all over Steve’s face. He’d gotten the paints. “You got them,” Bucky muttered, and he got to his feet, darting into the kitchen.

He’d thought once that he would go back to Steve, but he couldn’t see that now, even if Loki was out of the picture. They had good memories together, but Bucky was too different, too changed. He was no longer the young man that Steve had loved, no longer the man that _could_ love. He was just tired. His very soul ached. He missed Steve, but he didn’t quite miss _them_. He wanted the closeness, but something about their past intimacy terrified him.

“I’m sorry,” Steve finally said, rubbing his hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to—”

“What?” Bucky interrupted, moving out of the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand. “Didn’t mean to drag me back into the past? I’ve been living in the past for the past few months, just _trying_ to remember who I am. You’re part of that, a big part. But that doesn’t mean…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“I’m in a relationship with Loki,” Steve interrupted. “We’re together.” He chuckled slightly. “It started out as a way to stop questions, because I thought I wanted to get back together with you, if you ever wanted it. Now, I can’t imagine myself with anyone other than him.”

Bucky couldn’t stop the relieved smile that crossed his face. “Good. I mean, good that you’re happy with him. I can’t be happy with anyone right now. Ever, maybe.” Steve nodded in understanding and no more than a bit of relief of his own. “I just want you, Steve. Just as a friend.”

“I’m with you,” Steve promised, pushing to his feet. “‘Til the end of the line.”

“”Til the end of the line,” Bucky parroted, and they moved closer, Bucky reaching up with his metal hand, grabbing Steve’s shoulder. He looked him over, trying to reconnect the man before him with the boy he’d known. “I remember those years of fighting with you, but they’re mostly gone. I barely know you when you’re like this.”

“You don’t have to know me at all,” Steve swore, and Bucky shook his head. “You just have to know that I’m here for you, no matter what.” He pulled back, and went to the door. “I have to get back. You’re good?”

“I’m good,” Bucky promised, and Steve flashed him a small smile before ducking out the door, softly closing it behind him.

He turned back and punched through the wall. He wasn’t mad, just overwhelmed, he told himself. He barely even remembered most of their time together, he barely remembered _anything_ other than what HYDRA had done to him, what he’d done to innocent people. He tore through the apartment and picked up his red journal.

 _Did you find the journal?_ He wrote. _Steve was here. Told me you were hurt. You could have called for me, I would have come. Tell me you’re alright._

He shut the journal and barely stopped himself from throwing it across the room. He dropped it onto the coffee table and then went across the room to the window. It was spelled to keep anyone from seeing in, but he could see out. Down on the sidewalk, Steve was standing, looking down the street. Bucky peered down and watched him walk away. Punk wasn’t even wearing any shoes.

He picked up the red journal again.

_Steve walked back to you without shoes on. Kid can’t take care of himself. Watch him to make sure he doesn’t get sick, will you?_

He put the journal down and turned on the TV.

* * *

Loki woke up with his face pressed to Steve’s chest. He curled closer, wincing at the ache in his face and shoulders. He’d been lucky that Steve was so quick to listen to him, given that he could have suffered for hours in pain with a lesser man. As was his morning habit, he curled up close to his Captain for a few moments longer, and then slipped from the bed, moving to the bathroom. Something fell to the floor behind him, and he turned back to see his green journal. How very strange.

He picked it up and opened it as he walked the few steps to the bathroom, sending out tendrils of seidr to start the bath and pull his underclothes off. He frowned—Steve had gone to Bucky the night before? What on Midgard had happened?

He summoned a pen as his seidr tipped a few vials of oils and salts into the water, carefully stepping into it. He sunk down deep into the water as the pen writ out his responses. 

_The journal you mentioned was not in the HYDRA compound. Steve sent me back to look at their computers, and HYDRA knew one of us would come back. They put a bomb in their computer that exploded, caught me unawares. Steve caused me to heal myself. I did not call for you because I did not have time. I am unsure of how much help you would have been regardless. I am glad you and Steve talked; he has been worried about you. I will ask him about your meeting once he wakes._

He surfaced and carefully touched his fingers to the skin on his face and neck. If Steve had not commanded it, he would be healing for days, if not weeks. How very strange, the strength of their bond. He had experienced nothing like it before, not with anyone, not even Thor, whom he had been bonded to for over a thousand years. Thor had only suppressed him, he could have never commanded Loki’s seidr in such a way. He had barely commanded Loki.

As was his habit, as dying as it was, he spread out his seidr and reached for Asgard. There was nothing, only darkness. He was well and truly left here, abandoned by his people, abandoned by his King. Whatever he had done, he was serving the most cruel punishment.

From the living room, Clint yelled, “Can you shut up?” He laughed at Loki’s immediate response. “Grease yourself up and come out here, I’ll make you pancakes.”

Loki sunk down under the water, rolling his eyes. He couldn’t even sulk in peace.

A strong hand came through the water and tugged him up by his hair. Steve looked over him with a concerned gaze, and once he was reassured Loki was well enough, he pulled Loki up to meld their mouths. They kept it gentle, both of them thinking about Clint in the other room, Steve cupping Loki’s jaw in his hands and moving his lips, dipping his tongue into Loki’s mouth. Loki opened for him, as he always would, and he surged up, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck.

Steve pulled away before Loki could yank him into the bath. He smiled and ducked out of Loki’s grasp. “Good morning,” he greeted, and moved across the room to use the toilet.

Loki ducked beneath the water again. He remembered the pleasure he had of being with Stephen, how much he had missed the witch. Most of it was an attempt to escape from Thor, but he had found true pleasure in Stephen. There had not been the content he now found with Steve, yet he still missed Stephen.

It did not matter, he decided. This timeline was still convoluted, still truly unknown to him, but he had a decent year or two before Stephen was even in the car crash, much less even going to Kamar Taj. It would be quite a long time before he would even be tasked to help the Avengers, if that even needed to happen. Loki could do nothing other than enjoy what he had been given. The future was truly unknowable, even to him. He had Steve, and Clint, and Sam, and Bucky, and what was some simple Midgardian witch compared to them? He was little and paltry and useless. Stephen had not even been able to save him from Thor. He remembered turning on the computer in the HYDRA base and glancing through a file that mentioned Thor’s name. Something to think about.

From under the water, Loki held out a hand.

Without hesitation, Steve took it. He helped Loki from the water and grabbed a towel from the hook on the wall, gently patting Loki dry.

“You are very good to me,” Loki noted, his voice quiet.

Steve smiled softly. “You deserve it.”

Loki leaned against Steve as the Captain dried him and then grabbed another dry towel to tuck it around his waist. Loki tucked the green journal and the pen back into one of his pocket dimensions as he allowed Steve to tug him back into the bedroom and hand him a few items of clothing to dress himself.

Loki pulled on the shirt and sweats and then he took a seat at his small vanity, opening a few small vials and containers to spread oil over his hair.

Steve pulled on a pair of dark sweats with small emblems of his shield all over it, and a plain grey t-shirt over top of it. “You don’t need to dress up for me,” he finally said, pausing in leaving the bedroom. 

Loki dipped his fingers into a small tub and moved them through another section of hair. “I do not do this for you,” he replied, heavy amusement in his voice. 

“Do you like it? It’s, what, half an hour a day? You wash it all out of your hair and then put it back in.”

Loki frowned at his reflection in the mirror and then turned his head to frown at Steve. “If my grooming routine displeases you,” he began, but Steve shook his head, bringing his hand up to stop Loki from continuing.

“I’m not trying to stop you. I’m just asking you why.”

“I’ve done it for as long as I can remember,” Loki mused, turning back to the mirror. “I have no intentions of stopping something that brings me a bit of peace.”

Steve nodded and gave a little shrug. “That’s all I needed to hear. I’ll tell Barton you’ll be out in a minute.” He went to open the bedroom door and then shook his head. “I guess he already knows, huh?”

Loki didn’t reply and Steve left the bedroom, leaving the door cracked open. He looked at the oils and creams in front of him and continued applying them, albeit slowly. There wasn’t an exact memory that he could recall that heralded the beginning of him doing his hair; he had always done it. Perhaps it was a retaliation against Thor’s hair, or a way to stop Thor from digging his hands into Loki’s hair at every chance he got. Most of the oils were protective, as he often worked with spells or potions that could damage it, and a side effect of that protection was greasiness. It was also easier to keep out of his face when oiled, and not as curly as it was naturally. It was the only thing he had for himself.

It didn’t matter. He enjoyed it, enjoyed caring for himself in any way he had been allowed.

He finished with his hair and recapped the vials and containers and then made his way into the living room, taking a seat at the kitchen table when Clint waved him to it. Clint put a plate down in front of him and Steve stepped up next to him, pressed a kiss to the top of Loki’s head. “I don’t care what you look like,” Steve told him quietly. “I just worry about you.”

Loki sent him a small smile. “I know,” he replied. “I...appreciate it.” He watched Steve sit down across from him with his own plate, and then Clint took the last seat, obnoxiously hitting his knee against Loki’s. He rolled his eyes and the three of them went quiet as they ate, Steve murmuring about Clint’s good cooking. 

“I had to wake up early and run to the store, you know,” Clint informed them. “Seriously, there’s _no_ food here.” The few of them were quiet for a few more bites and then Clint sighed dramatically and looked at Steve. “Cap, just tell him.” He pointed to the side of his head. “At least to just give me some peace. It’s like another war is going on up here.”

Steve snorted and looked at Loki, who pointedly avoided his gaze. “He has to tell me what he wants to know,” he started, but Clint interrupted him. 

“I’m normally more than happy to do this dance with you, but I can’t handle the angst anymore. Just tell him what you and Barnes talked about. Christ.”

Loki made an alarmed sound in the back of his throat and threw Clint a dirty look, but he only rolled his eyes. 

“You won’t do anything to me,” Clint told him, pointing at Loki with his fork. “Even if you tried, I’d be able to predict anything you did. You like me too much to hurt me anyway.” He handed his mug of coffee over and Loki took it, grumbling under his breath as Steve looked amusedly between them and then shrugged. 

“I wasn’t there long. He seems like he’s doing good. I...I didn’t really recognize him, which I think he realized. He’s not my Bucky anymore,” Steve admitted, and Loki looked up from the coffee cup with wide eyes. “I guess I was still expecting him to be in there somewhere, and maybe he is. But the man I knew, the man I loved, I think he’s gone.” He shook his head and got up, taking his empty plate to the kitchen. “That’s not right. But he’s different. He’s not completely gone, he’s just different. Hell, I’m different than the Steve he knew. I still care for him all the same. But I can’t expect anything of him, not if he’s supposed to keep getting better. So I have to let that go. I don’t want to, but there’s really no other choice.”

Loki didn’t look up from his own empty plate as he replied, “When I was young, Thor grew into his powers very quickly. He became horrifically strong within only a few years, and he had no control over himself. He angered quickly and would bring down lightning and thunder upon anyone who crossed him. I was terrified of him. Perhaps in some way, I still am.” He ducked away from the reassuring hand Clint reached out towards him. “It took me quite a long time to reconcile the brother I had held in such high esteem with the man who would call down storms if his meal was late, or if his tutor angered him. I went to my knees voluntarily, you know. Nothing else would quiet him, and I was so tired. I wanted my brother back, and instead I handed myself over to a tyrant.” Blazing green eyes turned to Steve, frozen in the kitchen. “I understand what it is like to miss someone while they stand in front of you. I have shed tears aplenty for my brother. But Bucky, he cares for you. Deeply. He is simply scared beyond your understanding and does not wish to burden you with his past.”

“I’ll take whatever he wants to give me,” Steve swore. “If he wants to talk, I’m here for him. If he wants to see me once a year for a hug and a slap on the back, I’m there. Whatever it takes.”

Loki smiled slightly and ducked his chin. “My Captain, here is where you differ so greatly from my experience. I find myself jealous of Bucky, even as you offer me the same.” Steve nodded—he would be at Loki’s side until death itself dragged him away. “I still flounder with any support offered to me, assuming it a trick or a scheme. But I believe you, Steve. You have no intent in your heart to harm others.”

“Well,” Steve hedged. “There’s still Nazis around.”

“Yes, dear. Besides the Nazis.” Loki floated both and Clint’s plate to the kitchen where Steve quickly washed them, and then he came out, sliding one of his hands under Loki’s chin. 

“We talked about you. He wanted to make sure I was taking care of you.” Steve smiled as Loki pressed his jaw deeper into Steve’s warm hand. “I’ll show you the memory he brought up later, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“I get that I’m going to hear about this one way or another,” Clint drawled, “and I really don’t care, but you two have gotta stop acting like this in front of other people.”

Loki sent him a sly smirk. “You enjoy your master getting attention. You like knowing I’m being taken care of.” He lifted his mouth for a kiss that Steve gladly gave. 

“Sure,” Clint agreed easily. “But not everyone is going to be happy about Cap and you being together, and it’s my job to keep you safe. Anyway, Tony wanted us back at HQ by 9am, and it’s closing in on 8.30. I just know how long it takes for you to get ready, sir.”

Loki rolled his eyes and pushed to his feet, towering over Clint as Steve rushed to the bathroom to shower. “I noticed few negative reactions to our coming out, as your culture calls it. But insofar nothing has come of it.”

Clint pretended to look thoughtful. “Do you go outside? I’m fairly certain you have to actually leave the apartment to see if other people are mad about you not-fake-dating Captain America.” He dodged the swat Loki aimed for the back of his head and smiled down into the almost empty coffee mug he’d swiped back. 

It was nice, living like this. This Loki was so vastly different than the one before that Clint often barely recognized him. Then, of course, he only had to dip below the surface, but that was easy enough to do. He’d been lucky that much of his life had been long years of dedication to self-control and personal strength, otherwise it would have been so easy to slip under. Loki’s mind was so vast and circuitous and chaotic that he could have easily been lost. Yet he had managed to stay stable. Even if he was no longer wholly himself, he was still awake and alive. 

His phone vibrated. 

_You ready to tell me what’s going on?_

* * *

Clint pulled Loki aside once they stepped through the worlds into Avengers Tower. It really was becoming a big pain in the ass to just get one damn meeting done with all of them present. No wonder Steve was still on the fence about the whole thing. 

“Natasha wants to know what’s going on,” Clint hissed, waving awkwardly across the room at her. 

He could hear Loki’s thoughts at the same time he opened his mouth. _Why would I care about what the Black Widow wants? She does not matter. The men both care for her but I have no use for her._ “So tell her. Steve wants to tell Stark anyway. She’ll feel more affectionate towards you if it comes from you.”

He really didn’t know Nat at all. Well, at least Clint hadn’t started looking at relationships like Loki did, with every interaction and reaction needing to be scrutinized and weighed and obsessed over. “Alright,” he shrugged, and then tugged Loki over to Natasha. She was about ten minutes away from literally tapping her foot on the ground in annoyance, so she was getting close to finding out one way or another, regardless of what anyone else wanted. 

“Clint,” she greeted stiffly, and she raked her gaze over Loki, who gave her some kind of small, twisted smile, and then he bowed slightly. 

Clint could feel the blood drain out of his face. What the hell was he doing?

“Lady Natasha,” Loki addressed her, and he reached for her hand. He had about a thousand years of diplomacy training that was sure to get him killed or seriously injured if he kept this up. Clint reached forward and, without thinking, smacked Loki’s hand out of the air. 

Something like white hot rage and dark indignation swept through him, and Loki did not even spare Clint another glance as he glowered at Natasha, who stiffened up and put a hand on the knife she had hidden in her belt. 

He sneered at her. “When my brother bound my soul and my loyalty and my _life_ to his during his coronation rituals, I panicked. I reached out through the cosmos and found a small, compatible soul hiding away on Midgard. A man with heart. I twisted myself up and made him my own. He is bound to me in such a manner that he is inside my own mind.” He spun to Clint and his seidr built up enough to shove the archer to the floor. “Are you pleased now?”

Loki turned on his heel and was gone. 

Natasha helped him stand up and then he shook her off, shaking his head. Bruce came over, hands up, “You need anything?”

“Naw,” Clint replied, shaking his head. “Just lucky he didn’t kill me for that.”

“Kill you?” half the room parroted back. 

“For hitting his hand a little? I’d be in the ground a hundred times over,” Tony shot back. Steve came around the table and patted Clint on the back. 

“You can’t think of him as a person,” Clint informed them with an aggravated sigh. “He looks like us, or we look like him, but he really has no idea what he’s doing. He was basically abandoned here. Our cultural norms are vastly different from his, to the point where almost every single interaction would be different. He’s also a King. He’s been royalty his entire life. He could have killed me for hitting him like that and no one on Asgard would’ve had anything to say about it.”

“Thor told me once that there used to be a law in Asgard about that,” Steve mused, “where anyone who touched either of the princes was put into the dungeons, or to death. They changed it once Thor hit maturity.”

“That doesn’t excuse anything,” Tony interrupted, and both Bruce and Natasha agreed with him.

“Regardless of how he got here, he has to at least try to fit in,” Bruce said.

Steve frowned. “He has been. He has worked very hard at it. Yet why must he? He has his own culture, one that far surpasses our own. Yet everyone here speaks poorly of him once he steps once out of line?”

“What was he going to do? Kiss my hand?” Natasha finally said, stepping up next to Clint.

Clint nodded. “It’s the proper introduction for a woman-friend. It’s a bit derogative, but he can’t really do anything about that. He was greeting you as an equal to myself. Or, well, one step below me.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and Clint shrugged. “Aesir culture is very caste-like. It’s a little more convoluted than that, but he sees everyone with different levels of respect. Most people barely register to him.” He thought about that for a moment. “I’m not entirely sure if that’s an Asgard thing or a Loki thing. I’m actually pretty sure that’s just a Loki thing.”

“Where do we all fall? What’s he think about all of us?” Tony interjected.

“He told Nat you two have some kind of bond? I thought he was dating Cap?” Bruce followed up, and Clint rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like that. I’m not sure he would want everyone to know that,” Clint mused, and he looked to Steve, who shook his head and went back to looking at the HYDRA documents. Big help him. 

It was strange, feeling Loki’s emotions about the situation while simultaneously trying to excuse his actions to the rest of their team. Loki was still mad at him, but something was distracting him. Clint briefly closed his eyes and caught a glimpse of the green journal, and then the soul-sucking feeling of Loki walking through the worlds. He caught a flash of dark hair and a metal arm—Barnes—and forced his eyes open. It was so easy to get lost in Loki’s mind, but he was stronger than he looked.

“I won’t betray his confidence like that,” Clint finally announced, and he went up to the conference table, taking the few papers that Steve handed him. Steve walked around the table and patted him uncomfortably on the shoulder. 

“Thanks for that,” Steve muttered, and then he called everyone back around the table. Clint took the seat to Steve’s right. Steve patted his knee under the table, a little awkward about it.

It was good, to get back into the rhythm of it. Follow-up meetings were easy. The mission hadn’t really been that difficult. Tony mentioned that they had seen Thor’s name in the HYDRA documents, and that he’d come to the conclusion that HYDRA had been researching him in order to kidnap him for research purposes. Clint frowned but stayed quiet, flicking a pen between his fingers as he paged through the endless pages. Steve relayed their mission through the HYDRA base as Clint thought about how strange it was that none of the other Avengers had thought to ask how Loki had healed so quickly or how he was faring after having a bomb explode in his face. Steve elbowed him in the side when it was obvious he wasn't paying attention, and Clint elbowed him back, doing his damnedest to listen to what was being said.


	15. CH15

It began with the ravens.

He noticed them over the following weeks. There were only one or two of them in the beginning, and then more and more, lining the tops of buildings and the half-dead trees down the streets. They followed him on his walks through the National Mall while Steve and Sam went for their runs. They followed him during his walks to Bucky’s apartment, and eventually learned how to find him when he visited Avengers Tower in New York City. He watched Stark repair JARVIS and turned away from the windows as the ravens would gather on the railings outside the landing pad and stare inside. 

Stark called a company that put up anti-bird devices around the Tower, but they did not dissuade the ravens. 

There was still no path to Asgard, but Loki began putting the last stages of his plan into motion. He made certain that Clint could give Steve the address to Bucky’s apartment, that Clint would make sure Steve survived. He put more wardstones around their apartment, gave one to Sam and one to Clint, and then hid a few more in Stark’s penthouse. He waffled between telling Steve his worries and keeping the Captain in the dark, and eventually gave in enough to tell Steve that he was worried Thor would be returning. 

Always prepared for the worst, his Captain swore that he would do everything in his power to keep Loki safe. He admired his Captain’s heart but wondered if Steve was still a bit naive, if he still thought that Thor could be overpowered or outwitted. But even if Thor suspected something, even if he had spent the past year blocking Loki from Asgard to somehow keep Asgard safe from Loki’s schemes, he could not predict Loki’s plans. Loki was certain of it. 

But he was prepared. His time on Midgard, nearly a year and a half at this point, had given him enough free time to scheme. And he had three, or even four, very powerful warriors at his back. Even better than he could have hoped for. His current biggest decision was to see if it was a good idea to include Bucky or not. He was leaning towards no, but it was still something to consider. He knew Bucky did not want to fight, and while Loki didn’t want to make him, he could. Bucky’s mind was raw and skinned, and Loki could slide in easily enough. He _had_ sworn not to, but Loki was rarely the type of person that kept promises.

The ravens were growing bolder, tapping on their apartment windows, even attempting to follow Loki into stores. He tagged a few of them with seidr and found that they were the same birds, and none of them were of Midgard.

Which meant, of course, there was only one place they could have come from, and only one who could have sent them. It was more proof for his suspicions. 

A few more weeks passed, with the weather turning to unseasonal rainstorms. Every flash of lightning and crash of thunder sent a jolt of fear through Loki’s heart. But he stayed strong. He would not run. He would have his revenge.

He visited Bucky for what he was certain was the last time, bringing a small dinner of Italian food for the two of them, and Bucky fell asleep with his head on Loki’s shoulder. He finished the movie and then carried Bucky to bed, and used a bit of seidr to change the red star on his metal arm to green. Little something to remember him by if Thor crushed his skull again.

He brushed Bucky’s hair out of his face and then turned on his heel, stepping through to his apartment, where Steve, Clint, and Sam all waited.

“He comes soon,” Loki told them, and outside, the rain came down ever harder. 

“Do you need anything from us?” Sam asked.

He shook his head, pacing in short, rapid strides in front of the TV and thought about telling the truth. “He will bring the Warriors Three and Sif with him. They are all very powerful warriors, but they have their weaknesses. Volstagg is slow, but unbelievably strong, far stronger than any of you have witnessed. Hogun is quick, and he uses a mace-and-chain, which he is very talented with. Fandral has a sword, and he is one of Asgard’s finest swordsmen. Sif is used to being underestimated, and she carries a double bladed sword and a shield. All four of them will die to protect Thor without hesitation. Thor will not return the favor, as a King cannot risk his life for a mere warrior.” He slowed to a stop and looked at the three men watching him. 

“Any of them will die in their sworn duty. If Thor tells them to kill one of you, they will do their absolute damnedest to slaughter you. I will give each of you a personal wardstone, but there will only be so much I can do.”

“You really think this is going to turn into a full-fledged battle?” Sam asked, taking a sip of his beer. 

“You have not seen Thor,” Loki noted. “You have never met him. He is very...possessive. He is a mighty and powerful beast. He is beyond mad.”

“Thor will kill any one of us if he thinks we’re keeping Loki from him,” Clint told Sam, who frowned and rubbed at his goatee. 

“Are you scared of him?” Sam asked.

Loki did not hesitate. “Terrified. But I am smarter, and I am more cunning. He believes I will be the same broken husk of a person I was when he closed Asgard off to me. He believes I will fall to my knees at the sight of him.” He clenched his fist and very slowly and pointedly, looked each man in the eye. “I am no longer his.”

* * *

The storms worsened the next day, and Stark sent a Quinjet for them, Loki hanging back in the apartment for just a moment longer. He would miss his home here, if today went the way he thought it would. He would leave his furs and oils with Steve, and he conjured up a small wooden bowl, leaving the small glass marble that held his library in it. If he was to be missed, perhaps he could give this world his knowledge. He waffled on leaving behind the letters he had written, and ultimately decided to leave them under the bowl.

He would miss his life here.

He shut the apartment door behind him as he made his way down the hall and up the fire escape stairs to the roof of the building. He was not one for sentiment.

The gangway of the Quinjet lowered for him, and Loki walked up, pulling his horned helm out of a pocket dimension. There was no more planning, no more time.

Thor was coming.

He stood next to Steve in the helms room as the Quinjet flew them to Avengers Tower. Clint hovered behind them, and Sam next to him. 

Thunder crashed above them, echoing in Loki’s chest. He was not afraid.

Steve took his hand. The trip to New York City was quick, and he was at his Captain’s side.

There was no where else he would rather be.

* * *

They landed on the helipad and Steve did not release his hand, leading Loki into Stark’s penthouse. Clint and Sam stayed behind them, ignoring Tony’s mocking about Steve needing bodyguards. The storm grew more powerful as the Quinjet took off, and Loki stiffened as a great flash of lightning struck the tower, the thunder booming so loudly that the door to the landing deck exploded inward, covering the room in shattered glass.

There on the helipad, Thor.

He stood tall, clothed in gold and grey armor, a long flowing red cloak. The six royal disks on his chest gleamed in the light, and upon his brow, his gold crown with vines and leaves was shrouded in lightning. His eyes glowed white and he lifted Mjolnir, bringing down a great crash of thunder. He was alone, as Loki had known he would be.

His voice boomed as he thundered for Loki.

Loki turned away from him, pulling his hand from Steve’s grasp. Simultaneously, he kicked away the closest couch and crushed the wardstone he had hidden beneath it, and he pulled his green journal from his pocket dimension, pressing his palm to the cover, calling for Bucky.

The soldier appeared with a gun in his hand, and as one, the four men that cared for Loki stepped up behind him as he focused on his brother.

Thor strode through the shattered door and his eyes cleared, bright blue eyes focused on Loki. He lowered Mjolnir and smiled. “Brother,” he called, and Loki turned his head to meet Steve’s gaze. Steve lifted his shield and nodded.

Loki stepped forward.

With all the grace and elegance he could muster, he knelt at Thor’s feet.

“My King,” he murmured, and Thor’s strong hand pet over his helm and his hair.

Thor looked at each of the shocked faces in front of him and he raised Mjolnir.

The Bifrost carried him away.

“What the fuck?”

* * *

They landed in the Observatory, Loki still kneeling at his King’s feet. His hands shook, and he fisted them to hide it.

Gently, as if he was touching something precious, Thor helped him to his feet.

Heimdall inclined his head. “My Lords,” he greeted. Thor nodded and escorted Loki past him.

The walk to the palace was long.

Asgard was still the most beautiful place Loki had ever seen. He would miss it.

Thor offered him his elbow, and Loki took it. He could feel the frantic pace of Thor’s thunderous heart as he leaned into Thor’s side, and he barely managed to school the dark smile off his face.

“I have missed my home,” he sighed into the tense air between them. 

Thor nodded, swallowing thickly. “I...oh, my brother. My dearest. I have grieved your absence every day.”

Loki slowed to a stop, halfway between the Observatory and Asgard. Thor turned back to look at him as Loki slowly removed his helm and sent it into the ether. His hands did not shake. His wrists did not ache. He was strong. If anyone could do this, it was he.

“You closed Asgard off to me,” Loki said, keeping his tone quiet and conversational. “For over a year. I was abandoned, betrayed, alone. Left behind to die on a rotten realm.”

“Loki, I had to keep you safe. If you had stayed on Asgard, I would not have been able to protect you.” He reached out for Loki and curled his hand around Loki’s neck, thumb stroking over his skin where Loki had once worn his collar. “Odin has died. Frigga is in a coma. We are not alone, we have two siblings—Hela, the ruler of Hel, and Balder, he who was banished to Vanaheim, who I imprisoned on the Isle of Silence.” He pointed out the small floating island past the great waters and Loki could not stop the shudder that overtook him. He knew the Isle of Silence well.

Thor continued, “We suffered through the Convergence. Asgard was under attack for months from beings from all Realms. I could not have risked you.”

Loki nodded, tipping his head back to look out in the great expanse of sky above and around them. They sparkled no differently than they had done in all the years before, where he’d stood out on this very same bridge and screamed into the uncaring void. “I had a duty to this realm, to the crown. I bound myself to you in pursuit of fulfilling that duty.” He looked at the glittering palace and sighed. “I was at a loss while left on Midgard.” Slowly, he turned his head and smiled at his brother, baring all his teeth. “Do you remember why you chose the threefold bond to bind me?”

“Seidr is more powerful in threes,” Thor replied, eyes narrowing, hand tightening upon Mjolnir.

Loki nodded. “It is also more brittle when stretched over time and distance.” He tipped his head and looked askance at Thor. “I told you that I would have my revenge. Not all the furs and jewels in the entire galaxy could sway my favor otherwise.”

“Beloved,” Thor breathed, fury building upon his brow. “I thought it weak because of distance.”

Loki twisted his hands and brought physical representations of their bonds between them, Thor gasping as Loki yanked on them. Thor took a step closer and then staggered, falling to his knees. Loki smiled. “I plotted and I schemed and I planned. All I had while under your thumb was time. The only thing that got me through going to my knees at your feet every night was knowing that one day, perhaps very far in the future, I would see you here, begging, on your knees before me.”

“I did it all to protect you!” Thor cried out, clutching at his chest as he contorted and gasped, Loki plucking through the weak bonds between them, continuing his work of undoing them, one string at a time. “You needed it! It was for your own good. You would hurt yourself otherwise.”

“Oh, I have always needed an anchor. I never denied that.” Loki graced him with a smile and Thor grabbed at it like a lifeline. “Did you know that this would not have been possible if you had not sent me away? The distance allowed me to stretch and manipulate the bonds so that I could break them in front of you now. You did this, Thor.”

“I only acted in your best interest!”

He threw his head back and laughed, laying his hand over his heart. “Oh, brother. You have never done anything for me. It has all been for you. You have pushed me to the ground over and over, until I was no more than the dirt beneath your heel.” Very carefully, he twisted the advisor bond between them and crushed it in his hand. Seidr built up between his fingers and then turned to dust, fading away as he opened his fingers. 

Thor screamed.

Loki sneered and reveled in his pain.

“Oh, brother, it is only going to get worse. Much, much worse.”

“Loki, please...I apologize for what I have done.” Thor made a final attempt to push to his feet, but he faltered, falling to his knees once again.

He pulled the emissary bond between his hands, pulling the long, tight strands in between his fingers. He could barely feel it anymore. It had been pulling on him for over a year, and now, he was pulling back. 

“You could live at my feet and beg for forgiveness until we both die, and brother, I would still never forgive you.”

“Why?”

Loki yanked on the bond and Thor groaned. “I spent _centuries_ at your feet. Now you will have one moment of what I lived for so long.” He pretended to think about it. “I have never denied that I am meant to be on my knees. If there is anything I have learned, Thor, it is that you have never deserved _me_.”

He pulled apart the bond and with a bit of seidr in the shape of a knife, cut it clean through. Thor groaned and grabbed at his chest, letting out a loud sob. It took him a moment to regain his bearings enough to strike the Bifrost bridge with his fist and look up at Loki. Unbeknownst to Thor, his fist caused a very small crack to form in the bridge. Loki smiled, baring his teeth.

“The Captain? He does?”

He lightly shrugged one shoulder. “It is more important that I choose to give myself to him. I never chose you, Thor. It was not my _choice_.”

“You begged me,” Thor spit. “You _begged_. You went to your knees and pled that I would not let you rise to your feet.”

“You would have killed me otherwise! How many times _did_ you strike me down so that I could not rise? How many times, Thor?” He took a deep breath and calmed himself, touching his fingertips briefly to his temple as his head began to ache from the stress of it all. “Oh, brother. I look forward to this next part.”

The hylli, even stretched and thin and breaking as it was, was still bright gold, shimmering between his hands. He could feel it, tugging on his seidr, wanting to be used, wanting to pull them together. Thor’s eyes locked on the bond and he roared, hitting the bridge with his fists again, closing his fingers around Mjolnir’s handle.

“I planned this from the very beginning,” Loki admitted. “I considered whether or not to tell you, but by the end of this, it won’t matter.”

“Loki, please. Please do not do this.” Thor’s face was open and begging and tears rolled down his cheeks and Loki knew it was all a lie. It had always been a lie.

He crushed it between his fingers.

They both screamed.

Thor yelled, smashing the Bifrost bridge with Mjolnir, curling into himself as the bond was ripped away. Loki laughed through the pain, wiping away the blood that leaked from his nose and eyes, stumbling as he tried to stay on his feet. He fell to his knees and held his hands to his chest as he attempted to catch his breath. “I would rather die than be tied to you,” Loki bellowed with all the strength he had left. 

Thor staggered to his feet. He raised Mjolnir high above his head, baring his blood-stained teeth. What a glorious King. Pity he was mad. “Die, then,” he roared with all his breath, and lightning echoed around them as he brought his hammer down. White lightning covered Loki’s vision and he screamed as the very air in his lungs vibrated with Thor’s power.

Loki rolled out of the way, and Mjolnir crushed to the bridge with a great crack. He laughed and fell forward, landing on his hands, and then he rolled over onto his back, looking up at the glittering sky. Between his hands, he used the last remains of his seidr to tug forward the soul bond between them, the bond that Thor had used and manipulated for so many centuries in his mad quest. It was the bond that ultimately tied him to Asgard, the bond that, in the end, would no longer be used against him. With this, he would be free.

“I would rather die,” he repeated, gritting the words through his bloody teeth, and he tore it apart with his hands and his teeth.

The bridge broke beneath them.

He fell through the dark.

* * *

_I believe he will kill me. With any luck, with any skill, I will avoid Mjolnir. At the end of it all, I believe he will kill me. He would rather Thanos come to Midgard and kill half of all life before letting me go, no matter him saying otherwise. So he will bring Mjolnir down upon me, as he has done so many times._

_I will do everything in my power to return to you. I will crawl through deserts and ice and snow and fire to find you again._

_I once believed myself to be in love. I see now what a paltry imitation that was. I still care for him, but I love you. It is not a sacrifice to be with you. Perhaps I will always be second best in your heart, but as long as I have you, I will be content with that. I will curl up at your feet and I will love you with all that is left in my black, bitter heart._

_I hope he does not kill me._

_I have planned for this for as long as I can remember. I wanted out from under him even before everything went so horribly wrong. I would have lived with it, you know, if he had given me Stephen. I would have._

_But I am glad I could not, even if it means I die, even it means I only had you for one year. I am glad he did not break me completely. I am glad that you gave me the strength and the surety in myself and my seidr to know that I could free myself._

_If I do not return, if I die, I am sorry._

_If he does not kill me, if I survive, I will return to you._

* * *

_I wrote three letters. Perhaps I do not even need to write this one. You already know my regrets._

_I do not know what will happen to your mind if I die. It will be exquisitely painful. I can still feel the agony from Mjolnir piercing my skull. I will always feel it._

_Please take care of him if I do not return. You have always been a caretaker. You still have heart._

_I told you once why I kept you. I will tell you again: You have heart. You were the only one I never had to change. I find myself lucky that even now, when you have every reason to detest me, you still look at me with affection._

_I cannot break the bond between us. If I could, I would have broken it. Not for any peace of mind on my part, or any attempt at vanity. I would have rejoiced to have you with me for those years before Thanos, to finally have someone on my side. But...I find myself in grief. I wish for you to have something beyond me, beyond my death._

_If I return, I expect you at the door to greet me._

_If I die, do not die along side me._

* * *

_You already know what I have to say._

_Take care of him. Before him, take care of yourself. There is no greater duty than the one we have to ourselves._

_Soldiers are strongest when they stand together._

* * *

_You are a good man._

_On Asgard, our men are good because they are strong and brave and can fight many battles without rest. I commend you for being strong despite the fact that humans are so inherently weak. You are strong because you know it is not weakness to lay down your sword._

_If I die, he will need you._

_Tell them I am sorry._

* * *

Steve walked into the living room. Something had woken him up.

He went to the kitchen for a glass of water.

On the couch, Loki.

Green eyes flickered open and he smiled.

“I am free.” He stretched and Steve went to him, wrapping his arms around Loki’s shoulders, pulling the god into his lap. “I am yours.”

“No,” Steve murmured into his ear, holding him ever tighter. “You have always been your own.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well folks! we done did the dang thing! thank you everyone so much for reading! i worked my ass off on this and was honestly really genuinely amazed at the response. this series has gotten a lot more attention than i expected and i'm just blown away. thank you to everyone who was so supportive and gave kudos and comments and everything. it means the absolute world to me. i posted this chapter a day early in a bit of a celebration. hope it lived up to everyone's expectations.
> 
> here's what's going to happen next:  
> there are three or four one-shots that will be posted over the next few weeks. i'm going to try to keep them all consistent on saturdays like this fic, but might miss a week or two here and there, might post them on different days if i feel like it. my goal is for the next big fic in this series to begin posting a month from when this fic finished (so hoping for around june 10th-ish). the next big fic is DONE (!!!!!!) (its sitting at about 110k before editing so it might go up or down a bit) and god, it's a lot. it's just. a lot. i've been affectionately referring to it as my loki and clint buddy cop adventure, so hope everyone likes clint barton! the entire next fic is age of ultron au, and then we have civil war, and then i go completely off book.
> 
> we're about to get into the big thick of it here in this wild au i created so i hope everyone in strapped in and ready for the ride. thanks against to everyone for reading and reviewing and all that and i'll see y'all on the next go-round!

**Author's Note:**

> anyway that's all folks!
> 
> please leave kudos and comments!
> 
> follow me on:  
> twitter: @whenhedied  
> tumblr: @deluxemycroft


End file.
